Redemption In Two Fold
by SkeeDev
Summary: Eli, now suspended, has to come to some harsh realizations. 1 No one likes a drunk. 2 No one likes a loser. And 3 Punk probably hates her. Now, one by one, she'll have learn to conquer these truths and be someone who can truly be called, Strong. Strong Resolve Sequel
1. Resign Yourself to the Phenom

**HEY ALL! Welcome to phase two of the Eli strong story! I've been anticipating this day for the longest time. And going crazy! I could barely contain myself! No worries. Like always I'll upload a one every few days. And you'll love them. So remember.**

**Have fun.**

**REVIEW! **

**Love,**

**Skee. **

**Also. A quick disclaimer. I do not own any thing WWE related or anything else. Just Eli. **

It took a few moments for me to realize why I was standing on the door step of this Texan ranch house.

Damn Jakie.

Damn him to hell.

It'd been just yesterday.

I flew home from Memphis, and was standing in the Air terminal, on a disgusting pay phone because I smashed my cell off of the hotel wall.

Granted, after hearing I was suspended, I might have lost my temper.

But the booze had calmed me down some.

I'd called the house to see if I could get a ride, instead of walking the fifteen miles home, but I was answered with this.

"No. Get your ass back on that plane and go to Texas."

I was stumped.

"Why the hell would I do that? I have a raging hangover. All I want to do is sleep."

"You know exactly why you have to go to Texas."

And I did.

This was the equivalent of a serf being summoned by her master.

I was being called by the man who had taught me everything I knew about wrestling.

And in the here and now, I was standing at his door step.

I took a deep breath and rose my hand.

With another breath, my index finger pressed the circular black button, it playing the old Victorian gong, and echoing through the house.

Within a few moments, the heavy wooden door was being pulled open.

Revealed to me was a tall, dark haired demon sleeved in black tattoos.

Or at least that's what he used to be.

He'd taken off the past year or so from in-ring competition, and frankly, I was glad.

If he knew exactly what I'd been doing while he was gone, I'd be dead.

"Eli, it's so nice of you to visit." his voice, deep and raspy, sent a chill down my spine and butterflies in my stomach.

I gulped down the nervous breath and responded.

"Well Mark. I didn't really have a choice now did I?"

Did I say Mark?

I meant the Undertaker.

He stood like a skyscraper in the door way, towering over me by almost two feet.

And had a curious look on his face.

Probably at the fact that I called him Mark, and not the same nickname I'd had for him since I was seven.

'Pops'.

I was thankful that he couldn't see past my dark sunglasses.

It was probably the only time in my life I was happy I had a hangover.

"So are you going to make me stand out here all day, or can I come in?"

So I wasn't exactly the most tactful person while at the mercy of the aftermath of an alcohol binge.

Or at all for that matter.

He gave me a thoughtful look.

"Actually." he paused. "Yeah."

I dropped my jaw.

"Go get changed. We're going for a run."

Finally, after standing at the door for those few dreadful minutes, he stepped aside and let me in.

"You got five minutes."

–

"Can I take a break?" I gasped, my head hanging low.

I could barely move before we left, now, over four miles later, I couldn't feel my legs.

"Sure."

I sighed in relief and was seconds away from collapsing on the tar underneath me.

"In six more miles."

I groaned and forced myself to trudge on.

"Here. Have some water." He extended his arm with a clear bottle.

I glared at him.

He'd said that we were going for a run.

Bullshit.

More like I was going for a run, and he got the drive down the road in his warm truck.

After I took my fill of water, I tossed it back at him.


	2. Her Intervention

**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Here's a second one! Please! REVIEW! And have fun. =)**

**Much love,**

**Skee.**

It was fifteen minutes later the sky was clouded, and the rain started to pour down.

I ran in that for over a half an hour.

We ended up at a old brick building, covered in amateur graffiti.

But between the paint streaks, I could faintly read 'Meeting Center'.

When he stopped the truck here, I knew something was up.

"What are we doing here?"

He didn't get out like I would have guessed, but instead, he handed me another bottle of water and a stick of deodorant.

"Not 'we', you. Now clean up, you stink like hell and your meeting starts in twenty minutes."

I furrowed my brow.

"Meeting for what?"

But he didn't answer me.

He just shooed me away from his truck.

There wasn't much of any place to go.

We might as well have been in the middle of nowhere.

The only reason why he could drive at such a slow pace for the past ten miles was because the roads were deserted. It was like in the zombie movies after the Apocalypse.

There's just that one car that attracts all the attention, then gets blown up.

I stood there a few more minutes, and decided that I didn't like standing in the rain.

That was my excuse for going into the meeting building.

The moment I walked in I noticed that the inside was just a dreary as the outside.

But there was no interior graffiti, actually I think it would have made it look better.

The walls were covered in a mint green paint.

And it was a crack paint job at that.

There were bulletin boards with papers on them in the main hallway.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I almost jumped right out of my skin.

"Are you here for the meeting?" an older woman asked.

She had short, blond hair, and a very soft and loving face.

She looked down at my clothes, I only wore a long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of spandex shorts.

And the fact that I had a bottle of water, a black wool hat, and a sick of deodorant in my hands didn't make me seem any less weird.

"What did you walk here?" she asked in a thick Texan accent.

Being from the north, it was strange for me to hear someone from the south talk.

And being in such a don't-give-a-shit state, I couldn't keep it from my face.

"I really have no idea why I'm here. I was forced to run ten miles here, then was told to go inside. I have no idea what's going on."

She smiled at me.

"Sounds like an intervention to me."

I tilted my head at her in confusion.

She wrapped her arm around my back, and guided me towards the first door on the left.

There was a piece of paper in the window.

"Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting".

I froze where I stood.

What the fuck was this?

"You must be confused. I'm not an alcoholic. There's got to be another meeting going on.." I trailed on.

Her smile turned down a bit.

"There aren't any other meetings tonight, just us. And hun, that's what we all said."

I was taken aback by her words.

We?

Was she an alcoholic?

"Come on in and have a seat."

I was hesitant to take the steps through the thresh hold.

"You don't have to say anything, just listen. Maybe you'll figure out somethings about yourself."

And suddenly, I found my legs moving towards the farthest seat from the back.

When other people started arriving, I put my hat back on, stuffing my hair into it.

Dude.

Technically, I was famous.

Isn't it called Alcoholics _Anonymous_?

Soon, almost every seat was filled.

I looked around.

These people were all alcoholics?

The majority of them looked normal; dressed in nice clothes, with nice hair cuts, and freshly showered.

There were maybe two who looked like the stereotypical AA client.

Then there was me.

I sat in the corner of the room, a few feet outside of the circle of chairs.

A few chairs over, was the lady I'd met when I first got here.

When everyone was sitting, she spoke.

"How's everyone doing?" her voice still that gentle, soothing tone that she used with me.

Everyone seemed to nod and mumble their answers.

Most of them were positives.

"Well, that's great everyone." her eyes glanced over to me.

"Tonight, we have a visitor who's a little lost."

Everyone's eyes turned to me.

Apparently they weren't used to newbies.

"Everyone welcome," she paused, expecting me to fill in the blank.

"Eli." I stammered over the word.

It was my name for crying out loud.

Why couldn't I just spit it out like usual?

And why the hell was I so nervous?

"Hi Eli."

Everyone said in mumbled, unison.

I smiled a nervous one.

What the hell was I supposed to say?

'Happy to be here'?

I still thought that I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.


	3. ReEducation

**Sorry this one is so short. But it's just a lead in for some seriously good shit. Lol.**

**Love, **

**Skee.**

The next morning was like hell.

And not figuratively speaking either.

Taker had said we would start with some light running, then basic Jujitsu.

And by that he meant, a six mile sprint and an ass whooping.

After dying on the side of the road for the second day in a row, he felt the need to put me through more hell.

"Why can't you go easy on me again?" I asked, trying to grasp my breath after he'd just released me from a devastating triangle choke.

He stood to set up again, and make me tap out. Again.

"We're conditioning. You need to be knocked back into a regular training schedule. That is, unless you don't want your job back."

Goddammit.

Was he trying to piss me off?

And again, we locked up.

And I was instantly hitting the mat with my hand.

He'd been doing this since before I was born.

How the hell was I supposed to catch up?

"Dammit Eli. All you have to do is escape the choke. I've showed you this before. Focus!"

And once again, we locked up.

We locked up at least three more times after that, before I could finally escape.

I pushed forward to grab his head, and I pulled it with me as I fell back to my previous position.

Instantly, his legs released me, and I laid on my back making fake snow angels on the mat.

"Don't get cocky. It only took you a dozen times to finally get it."

I grumbled and stopped my make-pretend.

"So what's next?" I asked sitting up and crossing my legs.

Taker was now on his feet and was heading towards the door back the the main part of the house.

"Studying."

I furrowed my brow at him.

But like hell that made a difference since he was already on the other side of the thresh hold.

I sprang up, insisting to know what 'studying' was.

But that didn't work either.

He just instructed me to shower and be ready to go out in public in twenty minutes.

And somehow, I did it.

I manged a ten minute shower.

It was a miracle.

I'd ended up pulling on a pair of not-so-bad ripped jeans and a blank t-shirt.

We hopped in the truck not five minutes later, and I spent the next ten harassing him about where we were going.

"It's a surprise. Shut it."

"Oh please oh please, don't take me to a library." I muttered.

"More like the civic center." I cocked a brow.

And it was ten minutes later we were pulling up to said civic center.

The main billboard reading, "Fight, Tonight!"

"How is this studying?" I asked hushed, as we were sitting outside of the octagon waiting for the fight to start.

"Watch and learn." he stated.

And as the first fight started, I did just that.

Never did I once take my eyes from the action.

I was too busy falling back in love with my job.


	4. Your Adversary, The Lion

**This one's a bit longer. To make up for the last one! And about this one. I just want to express, that I'm not trying to offend anyone with what I write. I write because it's my passion. Not to shoot on people or any type of group. Sometimes, I can be a bit raciest, but it's purely entertainment based. So with the next few chapters, please, try to understand that, I know some people go through these things, but I'm writing a fucking story. Not a gospel. I know, I can't possibly grasp what people go through, and I'm going off of what I can find on the internet and TV and other shit. Thus the 'have fun' portion of my ANs. So.**

**HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN WITH THIS CHAPTER. **

**REVIEW THE SHIT OUT OF IT! **

**With some ridiculously creepy love,**

**Skee. **

**ps. I worked really hard on this fucking chapter. So every fucking person better fucking review. I don't care if it's just, "great job!" or "fucking stupid". DO IT DAMMIT! GAH! **

**Looovvee yyoouu. ;)**

Watching that fight stirred up some feelings I'd been trying to repress for the past month.

And I didn't sleep much that night.

All I could think about was Punk.

And how drastic of a turn our relationship had taken.

And how alone I felt.

And suddenly, I yearned for a drink.

I ached for it.

I threw the covers of the guest bedroom at my mentors house, and silently searched the house.

Not a lick of booze anywhere.

I grumbled to myself quietly as I slipped on my shoes and jacket after changing my clothes.

The only way for me to get a drink now was to walk.

And it as at least ten miles away.

I popped the hood of the sweatshirt still residing under my jacket, over my head.

Conveniently hiding my eyes too.

And shoved my hands into the jeans pockets I'd pulled on before leaving.

I walked the ten miles to civilization.

–

God.

The feel of whiskey felt so good on my lips.

Especially after a fucking ten mile trek.

Eleven if you count all the walking it took to actually find a bar that wasn't uber sketchy.

So when I finally got a taste of sweet victory, whiskey, I couldn't help but have another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And soon enough, I was out on the street bumbling around, not knowing where the hell I was at, or where I was going.

At this point, I could barely stand.

And actually had no idea when I'd left the bar, or bought the bottle of 90 proof whiskey, or with what money.

I took a swig of the sauce, it burning down my throat; a sensation I'd always loved.

I could barely stand up straight and had to lean on the brick building I was slowly, very slowly, advancing by to get down the sidewalk.

And suddenly, I felt nauseous.

And not like sick-to-your-stomach nauseous.

It was holy-shit-I'm-going-to-die-I'm-that-sick nauseous.

In my state, which severely lacked inhibitions, I sat down on the dry Texas asphalt taking another gulp of party-juice.

I placed the bottle on the ground between my extended legs, and my hands rested on my lap.

Which was wet.

At that point, I had no idea why my pants were wet, or wet with.

And I didn't really care.

I shrugged it off and downed another mouthful of the sauce.

The nausea from before got worse.

And suddenly, I turned to the side, and unloaded all the alcohol I'd ingested the last month, on the sidewalk.

Not once.

But two.

Three.

Four times until I couldn't see straight or even see at all for that matter.

All I wanted to do now was sleep.

For a very long time.

My arm I'd been leaning on for support, collapsed beneath me and I went face first into the sidewalk coated in up chuck.

And everything went black.

–

I dipped in and out a little after that.

I saw snippets of images that didn't make much sense to me.

First, a blaring blue lights and a shadow approaching me.

Next was a crowd of people, and everything was white.

Then darkness again.

I opened my eyes.

It took a few moments to adjust to the darkness.

There was something in the distance I couldn't quite focus on.

I took a step closer, deeper into the darkness.

But still nothing but a blur.

Then, movement from the corner of my eye.

Quickly I snapped into attack mode, but there was nothing.

My pulse kicked up, and I heard a voice echo in the space.

"_Eli! I said no more cookies before dinner!" _

_It'd been over a decade since I'd heard that voice. _

_Then, the distant figure came so much more, vividly clear. _

_Suddenly, I remembered this moment. _

"Mom?"_ my eyes were wide, and my voice hitched in my throat. _

_The memory played in front of me like a movie, each frame perfectly intact. _

"_I remember hearing your father say one, not six." _

_Finally, her face came into view. _

_It exactly how I remembered. _

_The first thing anyone would notice about her were those piercing jade green eyes she later passed on to my baby sister. _

_Even with her back turned, she could always tell what I was doing. _

_As she bent down to get at my four-year-old level, her long blonde hair fell into her face. _

_She raised both of her perfectly shaped blonde brows, and extended her hand. _

"_Give them over." _

_Reluctantly, I could feel my childhood arm extend and place five, still warm, chocolate chip cookies in her hand. _

"_Hey mom, can I have a cookie?" I watched her as she turned her attention to her son, age fourteen, who was only asking to taunt me. _

_Her jade eyes turned back to me, and showed amusement. _

_Probably at the epic scowl I was sporting, even for a four-year-old. _

"_Marcus, leave your sister alone. She's just too damn cute to pick on!" _

_Another voice I hadn't heard in nearly twelve years chimed in the blackness. _

_My childish head turned up and stared at a dirty blond haired man, his lips curved into a joking smirk. _

"Dad?"_ my adult voice rang out. _

_Again, my pulse picked up. _

_Keeping a consistent, rapid beat. _

"_Roger. She's five. Not fifteen." _

_I glanced back at my mother, who was shooting him chastising glares. _

"_On Care, it's fine. It's not like she'll repeat me. Right sweetie?" _

_I couldn't help smile as his hands reached down and lifted me to his chest. _

_My adult eyes burned. _

_I could feel the warmth of my fathers embrace, the one that always melted away my icy moods._

The room swirled and I was dropped into the basement of my house.

_Sitting on the blue mats, with a doll baby in my hand. _

"_Ewi. Can you pwease pway dowies with me?" _

_I turned my vision from the doll in my hand, to the three year old, cute as a button, baby sister I had sitting next to me. _

"_I'm no good at fightin' games." she mumbled and pushed out her bottom lip. _

_I released an obnoxious groan. _

_Even at nine I was an ass. _

_I looked back at the gentle jade green eyes of my beloved sister, them shinning with excitement, and her gaped teeth forming a goofy smile. _

Suddenly, the world shifted again.

_I was sitting front row, ring side, at my first professional wrestling event. _

_Or, more importantly, WWF Monday Night Raw. _

_I watched in awe as Bull Nakano wrecked house with Alandra Blayze's face. _

_And at that moment, I reached a pivotal moment in my life. _

_I turned and tugged on my dads shirt. _

"_Daddy!" I yelled over the angry screaming crowd. _

_Usual reaction Bull got those days. _

"_Daddy!" I yelled again. _

_Finally, his hazel eyes turned to my wide eyed green ones. _

"_What honey?" _

_After seeing my face, his first snappy expression turned to the fatherly one I'd always known. _

"_I want to do this." I stated, pointing to the ring we sat only feet from. _

"_You want to learn to wrestle?" he asked, torn between watching the match and listening to his daughter speak. _

"_No, I want to do this!" I moved my pointed finger all around. _

_Trying to convey to him I didn't just want to wrestle._

_I wanted to be in the WWF. _

_His answering smirk was all I needed to know he was on board. _

"_You know what sweetheart, I think daddy can help with that..."_

The vision of my father blurred and an image of Randy appeared. And not just any Randy. It was the Randy I'd fallen in love with all those years ago.

"_Hey, I'm Randy. You look new." _

_I tried to keep my wide eyed expression to myself, but by the growing smirk on his face, I could tell it wasn't working. _

_At this point in time, I'd never really talked casually with a guy before. _

_Let alone see the the burn in his eyes. _

_I stammered out my name, taking his extended hand and shaking it. _

_He was about to say something when a trio of fellow developmental wrestlers passed by. _

"_God, Eli. What's that? It's disgusting!" _

_The leading douche bag said sarcastically. _

_Ripping the towel from it's tossed position on my shoulder. _

_Before I could muster any type of comeback, Randy was on it._

"_Shut up ass-face. No one likes you. Go away." _

_I cracked a smiled, for the first time since I moved to Kentucky, at his words. _

_As the threesome moved along, embarrassed, Randy turned back to me. _

_Quickly, I smothered the smile and was right back to stone-face. _

"_Don't worry about them. Everyone's got baggage." he smiled a genuine, toothy grin, and stepped past me. _

"_Oh, I'll be in town for a few more days. Come find me before I leave!" he called. _

_And at that moment, I had no idea if, or how, I would go about finding him. _

_But I sure as hell did. _

And as I watched Randy walk backwards away from me, it shifted to Punk walking towards me.

_This was my first time meeting the infamous CM Punk. _

_It was actually my first day on Smackdown too. _

_I was scheduled to make my debut in a few weeks, and Teddy Long wanted me to learn the ropes first. _

_And who else to teach me than the Smackdown veteran himself? _

_His raven colored hair cascaded around his face in a way I could only dream about. _

_The instant he saw me, he flashed me a huge smile. _

_I doubt it disappeared the entire night._

And as I watched him brush black those black tresses with a taped up hand, the tape disappeared and his dark locks lightened, trimming to his brows.

"_So what do we do now?" he mumbled against my neck. _

_His rough beard was like fire against my skin, as we lied underneath the blankets of his hotel room bed. _

_Absolutely naked. _

_My eyes were closed as I contemplated an answer. _

"_I don't know, maybe make this an exclusive deal?" _

_After the years of abuse and wear and tear with Randy, my confidence grew and I had no problem telling him exactly what I wanted. _

_His head popped up, and while watching my own expression, his morphed into that childish grin I would always love. _

As I watched this moment back, it probably one of the best I'd ever had, I couldn't control what was happening to my heart.

Beating so fast, I couldn't breathe.

I collapsed to my knees, pushing against the ground like it would somehow relieve the pressure.

It felt like my chest was going to explode.

I cried out in pain, but the empty space around me just echoed it back to me.

I clutched at my heart, feeling it pound against my hand.

Then suddenly, nothing.

Nothing at all.

No explosion, no pain, no nothing.

The darkness started to fade.

But was only replaced by a blinding light.

And the brighter it got, the more terrified I became.

And the memories I'd just been sifting through, sped by in a flash.

Soon, they turned to blurred images of things I'd never experienced before.

A woman in white, with a man in black across from her.

A twosome cuddled on the couch with a tiny bundle in their arms.

And as they went on, the final image was of an old couple, sitting in some rocking chairs, watching their grandchildren reek havoc.

With their fingers intertwined the whole time.

And as I looked the image, I caught a quick glimpse of the man's hand.

A small, black butterfly rested just below his thumb.

And then I knew what these were.

They were images of the life I'd never get to experience.

Because I was dying.

The light turned brighter, I couldn't even keep my eyes open.

"Please no. I don't want to go yet." I whispered through the utter pain in my chest, curled up on the ground.

The light started to protrude under my lids.

Then it stopped, and started to disappear.

I felt a different pressure on my chest, then a sharp pain.

I yelped at the suddenness and pulled back my collar to see two puckering pink spots on my chest.


	5. Satan, Claim Me Another Day

I tensed my muscles.

Feeling like a train wreck.

If there was anything worse, that would be my feeling right then.

I heard some voices around me, but I couldn't quite place who they were or what they were saying.

Finally, my lids lifted, and the dull gray hospital was exposed to my vision.

The shape of a blonde haired woman formed next to me.

My first instinct was that it was my mother.

"No, honey. It's Michelle. You're in the hospital."

I sighed.

I wasn't dead.

That was a relief.

Suddenly, a blurry dark figure appeared behind her.

I blinked my eyes clear, afraid that I was relieved too soon.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" his deep southern accent sent chills down my spine this time.

Yep.

Definitely still alive.

I groaned.

"Like I just got hit by a bus." my voice was beyond horse.

I could barely speak.

"Why am I in the hospital?"

Neither my mentor of his wife looked willing to say.

"Pops?" I spoke the nickname, I'd had for him since I was seven, at the level of a whisper.

It was as loud as I could get.

"What do you remember?" he asked.

I paused to think back that far.

I was still reeling off of the trip down memory lane I'd just taken.

"I was sitting in a bar a few miles from your house."

He sighed.

"I knew it." his words were a mutter.

I was about to ask again, when he continued.

"The doctor said the police found you passed out in a puddle of your own vomit on the side of the road. He said, when you came in you barely had a heart beat, and you were cold."

I never would have dreamed of seeing the Deadman grimace at the mention of near death.

Not with the persona he portrayed in the ring.

"Eli, what were you thinking? You could have died." he paused, now turning into the terrifying Phenom.

"And you did! They had to use the defibrillator to bring you back!"

And now he was mad.

I had no idea what to say.

I'd known this man since I was a child and I didn't know how to explain to him that I didn't know what I was thinking.

All I knew was that alcohol could make the pain go away.

At least for a little bit.

Before I had to answer, the door to my room opened and a tall man in a white coat walked in.

"Hey, doc. Why can't I talk?" I asked.

He seemed surprised with my directness.

But he answered anyways.

Not able to sense the urgency I had to change the subject.

"We had to pump your stomach. That involves a tube being inserted down to your stomach through your nose. And since you were unconscious we had to stick another tube, much larger, down your windpipe to keep you from breathing in your own stomach contents."

I blinked at him with a scrunched up face.

"That's disgusting." I paused.

"Why did you pump my stomach?"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

I furrowed my brows as he paused.

"Alone, if I may."

Michelle nodded and took Taker into the other room.

"Eli, this was a pretty severe case of alcohol poisoning. If the officers had found you a few minutes later, you wouldn't be sitting here." he paused, gauging my reaction.

It was pretty steady.

Stunned speechless, but steady.

"How long have you been drinking?"

I blinked and tried to think back that far.

"Since I was sixteen. So about ten years."

His brows raised at that, seeming surprised.

And after asking me the routine drinking questions; do you often drink alone, do you black out, can you remember how much you drink?

He paused.

"Have you ever considered you might be an alcoholic?"

Now I was surprised by his directness.

And honestly, I hadn't.

I'd gone the majority of my life knowing only two things.

Fighting and drinking.

I shook my head, no.

"Your father told me that he brought you to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting last night, did you consider that maybe that was an intervention?"

I stopped everything when he uttered 'your father', then realized.

My father was dead.

I peered out the glass door as he spoke, my mentor for almost twenty years stood there.

I couldn't count how many times he'd helped me out, like my father would have.

He might as well have been my dad now.

I didn't bother correcting him.

"Maybe you should try it again?" the doctor asked.

And after the ride I'd had tonight, it didn't sound like a bad idea.

"Yeah."

Again, he seemed surprised at my answer.

"Ok. Well, we're going to keep you here for twenty-four hours for observation. And we'll discuss a treatment plan."

And that wrapped up the conversation with the good doctor.

–

"No Jakie. I don't want any visitors. Don't be telling people that I'm in the hospital either."

I heard him get silent on the other end of the hospital phone.

And not a good silent either.

A guilty one.

"Jakie. What did you do?"

He sighed.

"I may have told one or two people you were in the hospital."

Que signature obnoxious groan.

"Who?"

He laughed sheepishly.

"Marcus and Kelly."

Again.

Obnoxious groan.

The Marcus part wasn't that bad.

It wasn't like he could come visit me anyways.

But the Kelly part.

That was the problem.

"Do you understand that the entire world will know in a matter of moments?"

"I know, I know! I told her not to tell anyone who wasn't important. And she gave me her word! Plus, I didn't tell her what hospital, so it's not like she can visit you. So quit whining."

It was true.

That was the only good part.

Jakie got quiet again.

"What do you want me to say if Punk calls?"

I sighed.

What did I want him to say?

"Like I said. No visitors and no more telling people."

I heard the door open, looking up, it was the doctor again.

"Jakie, I got to go."

Then click.

"What's up doc?" a second later, I let out a chuckle.

He smiled.

"Well, I just came to see how you're doing. And apparently you are doing great."

I nodded in agreement.

"And I wanted to talk to you about the next few steps."

His tone got serious as he sat on the seat next to my bed.

"Since you're still coming down from a long time addiction, the next few days are going to be rough."

"I'm a wrestler doc. I can handle rough."

He shook his head.

"It's going to be bad. And this is the part where you need the most resolve. We've already discussed your treatment options." he paused.

"You can either stay here and wait out the withdrawal or you can go home. But seeing as you just came back from a serious case of alcohol poisoning, I'd advise you to stay here."

I sighed and nodded.

It was the best option right now.

I wasn't anywhere near a drink, and I wouldn't need to keep Taker and Michelle from their own lives.

Plus, he said it would only be a few days.


	6. So Mountain, I Said Move

**And again. This is a part that I am only speculating. I couldn't imagine what it's like to actually live through this. Read it and fucking enjoy it. For the story's sake.**

**REVIEW! **

**Love, **

**Skee.**

A few days my ass.

More like a fucking week of absolute hell.

For eight straight days I had the headache to rival all headaches, puked at least six times a day, and shaking so bad I was my own personal earthquake.

Not to mention the breathing difficulties, seizures and hallucinations.

Oh, and the anxiety and depression to follow.

It had to had been past 3AM.

Because of said puking, headaches, shaking, and breathing problems, I got no sleep.

Wasn't not sleeping the whole reason why I was here in the first place?

The doctor said I had to at least try.

Sleeping through most of the withdrawal symptoms was all I could do.

Ever since I was in that dark place with the memory reel, I felt like something was looming over me.

Waiting for me to slip.

And tonight.

I had it again.

In the darkness I saw movement.

Kicking into fight mode, I flicked on the light next to my bed and took in a huge gasp.

It was Punk.

Standing there.

Looking awfully mad.

He had that hard set to his jaw, and a look in his eyes that could kill.

"Punker, what are you doing here?"

I asked, half ecstatic to see him, and half pissed Jakie told him where to find me.

I grabbed the IV stand and wheeled it with me, towards him.

I was going to hug him, damn how I'd missed him, when he took half a step away from me.

Right.

He broke up with me.

I'd almost forgotten.

He probably just came here to make sure I wasn't dead or something.

And at that moment.

I wished I was.

I hated being like this.

In limbo with him.

One second he's telling me he loves me and never wanting to let me go, and the next he's telling people we're through.

It made my chest hurt.

"Punk, are you mad at me or something? Because I thought you'd be proud of me."

I paused thinking of what I just said.

"Well, not for drinking myself into a hospital. But I'm still here, trying to get sober."

His hazel eyes just stared holes through me.

Through my soul.

"Please, talk to me." I pleaded.

Desperate to hear his voice.

Just seeing him didn't feel like enough.

It should have been.

It always had before.

I blinked for just a hair longer than normal.

I opened my eyes, and he was gone.

In a flash I was throwing the door open, scaring the crap out of the night shit nurses, and searching for him in the halls.

He was fast, but he wasn't that fast.

"Another hallucination?" One nurse asked.

She was usually here this time of night.

And I'd had one of these before.

Just not with Punk, and not as depressing.

"I think so." I muttered and turned back to my room.

Why couldn't this just end?

As I walked the few feet back to my bed, I felt it coming back.

The ridiculous nausea.

I didn't even make it another foot before I was hunched over the nearest trashcan.

"Why can't this just end?" I yelled, knocking over the puke lined trashcan.

I crawled back into bed and stayed there, wide awake, until morning.

–

"How are you feeling today, Eli?" the doctor asked a few days after that.

And honestly, I felt loads better.

I'd cut back the soup-special to once, maybe twice, a day.

The headaches were few and far in between.

My breathing was practically back to normal.

The shaking was still there, but that was because I was working off of barely any food, and even less sleep for the past week or so.

The seizures were gone.

And that hallucination about Punk was the last one.

"Great." I said, mostly honest.

The depression and anxiety, doc said, would take a little longer to get rid of.

"Good. Are you feeling up to some food?"

But before I could answer, Michelle was through the door a couple Styrofoam containers in hand.

And I smelt it.

The sweet smell of real food.

Instantly, my dry mouth moistened, and the days with barely any food were starting to catch up with me.

"I knew you'd be excited!" she smiled and opened the steaming container.

Instantly my face fell.

"Michelle. Steamed kale?"

The excitement completely gone from my voice.

"I hate kale."

She smiled.

"I told Mark you'd say that. He said that the day you get out of the hospital you're restarting your training and you need to be healthy."

From her lap, Michelle pulled out another Styrofoam container.

She placed it on the table in front of me and opened it.

Instantly, I was blasted with the smell of my favorite dish.

Especially while in Texas.

Country fried stake.

It came with mashed potatoes, green beans and was smothered in white gravy.

"Eli. You might want to take it easy on your stomach, at first. It's still pretty sensitive." The doctor reminded me.

I just brushed him off.

I couldn't wait to dig into that beauty.

–

Ok.

So maybe I should have taken the doctors advice.

Or at least slowed down enough to actually taste my food.

Either way, I was hunched over the bathroom toilet within the hour.

But damn.

Was it worth it.

I whipped my mouth and returned to my bed.

"Have fun in there?" the nurse asked seeing my smirk.

"It was totally worth it."

She laughed at my seriousness, then continued changing the IV bag.

"Since your vitals are looking good, and your symptoms are practically all gone, you might be able to go home soon." I groaned.

She gave me a worried look.

"When I get home I have to start training again. I don't have time for anymore recovery." I restated what Michelle had said to be earlier, for the nurse.

She nodded, and left.

I waited out the rest of the afternoon with no more fits of nausea and just a slight annoyance in my head.

And sitting in the silence of my hospital room, I starting thinking.

And thinking was a bad idea for me.

Was I really ready to go home yet?

And start Taker's intense reshaping workout?

Be near temptation?

I had no idea how I would handle being on the outside world.

And it scared me.

If you asked me a week ago, if I was ready to die.

I would have said yes.

But after actually dying, and realizing all I had to lose, I wasn't ready yet.

And if I relapsed, no one knew how far I would take it.

Or if I could stop after I started.

The temptation to drink would be uncontrollable.

And I had no idea how to deal with it.

Before I knew it, my heart was beating faster, my breath was harder to catch, and the walls started closing in on me.

There was a beeping from the computer next to me, and my doctor was in the room.

"Eli. You're ok. It's just a panic attack." he said soothingly, leaning me forward on the bed.

"You need to breathe." he reminded me.

It wasn't the first time I'd had been like this in the last few days.

But it wasn't this bad.

I tried to take a deep breath, and ignore the choking sensation I got when I didn't immediately exhale.

After a few more times I was able to take a full breath, without feeling suffocated.

A second later, I was back to normal.

Or as normal I'd been in the last week.

"Like I said before, those aren't going to go away as easily as the other symptoms. All you can do is learn to manage them."

I groaned.

"But aside from that, I was on my way here to tell you that, I talked to Michelle, and she agreed to help with your treatment while at home. She's coming to get you in the morning."

Little did he know, that was the whole reason why I was freaking out.

I wasn't sure if I could do it.


	7. Not By Strength, But Perseverance

And before I knew it, it was morning.

Michelle had come, like the doctor said, and was baring the gift of clean clothes.

I changed in the bathroom, slower than I wound normally.

All my clothes screamed obnoxious, Batman symbols and massive rips.

But I didn't feel it today.

I felt nervous.

Scared.

I looked up at my face in the mirror.

My skin was pale.

Paler than usual.

I took in a deep breath, and looked down at the remaining clothes.

Gray sweatshirt and leather jacket.

Michelle swore, she washed them both.

I was kind of bummed.

Sure, I didn't want to wear a sweatshirt that smelled like puke, but for a little bit, it smelled like Punk.

I pulled it on slowly, then my jacket.

In another breath, I was back in the hospital room with a waiting Michelle.

After signing some papers, we were in the truck and was driving back to the ranch house.

"Why didn't Pops come with you?" I asked in the silent cab.

It'd been eating at me for days.

Why wouldn't the man I'd looked up to my entire life, come a visit me in the hospital?

Michelle sighed.

"You know him.."

Yeah.

I did.

And he wasn't one to run away from a problem.

"He just didn't want to see you like that. He sees you as a daughter, you know. And I guess seeing you in the hospital was too much." she turned to me with a smile.

"But what do I know, he's a guy. So obviously that means I have to guess at what he's feeling half the time."

I chuckled lightly.

It was true.

With him, it was anyone's guess as to what he was thinking.

Within ten minutes we were home.

And Michelle was insisting that I eat something.

Though this time it'd be light and not full of grease.

After a few minutes of the unrelenting pressure, I agreed to some cereal.

"Don't fill up on junk. We're going running in an hour."

That was the first thing Taker had said to me in days.

And even though I didn't want to go run ten miles, I couldn't have been more excited.

He was the kind of guy to pick things up where they left off.

And right then, that was exactly what I needed.

To forget that a week ago I'd almost died and spent the remaining time until now in a hospital bed writhing in pain.

I finished up the bowl, and changed into my running gear.

And thus we reengaged in the painful routine from the week prior.

The burn in my muscles felt almost nice.

To be outside, and actually moving, felt even better.

Taker and I had ran up a Texan ridge and through some light woodland, mixing it up a bit.

We couldn't have been more than half done, when we stopped in a clearing.

It had to have been at least four mile.

I stopped and sipped at the water bottle I kept clutched in my hand.

Taker was sitting on a fallen log, sipping at his own bottle.

I sat next to him, and all I could think about was how little I'd seen him, and how much I actually needed him, this past week.

"Do you really think I looked that bad?"

His head turned to me, but I kept a steady gaze with the ground.

"When I was in the hospital?"

He sighed, and reluctantly answered.

"I know that I never want to see you like that again. Yeah, it was hard to watch you almost die. I've spent the last twenty years knowing a happy, pain in the ass, Eli. The person in the hospital wasn't you." he paused.

"Plus, I knew that I wouldn't be any use there. So I spent some time coming up with a new exercise routine and food menu for you." he smirked.

His idea of food was fucking kale.

I hate kale.

I groaned.

Then a new worry popped in my head.

"What if it's too hard, getting it all back?" my voice was just higher than a whisper.

Without hesitation, he replied.

"Anything that's worth having, doesn't come easy. You have to fight for it." he was right.

Everything I had in life, I had to earn it.

I had to fight for it.

Literally.

The only reason why I was in the WWE and not a bum on the street was because I fought to be the best.

I had to survive.

"And that's the only thing you know how to do right."

I could hear him repress laughter at that last bit.

I looked up, seeing it on his face.

I laughed.

"I don't know if I should be thanking you, or insulted."

He laughed too, and stood.

"You can thank me when you're back in the game. Come on."

Then he took off running back down the hill we'd just gotten up from.

I followed, knowing that the next three weeks were going to be hell.

But they'd be worth it.

–

Later that night, Taker took me back to the meeting center per my request.

I'd gotten there early enough to start having second thoughts on what to do.

I stalked into the bathroom for a good old fashioned pep talk, Eli style.

I splashed some water on my face, and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Alright Eli," I started, leaning my hands on the porcelain sink.

"You're going to go out there. And tell them everything. Everything." I emphasized, for no good reason.

As is stared at myself, I started to feel awkward.

I was a grown woman, talking to myself in a public bathroom.

How was that not awkward?

I looked down, glancing at my neck.

The words from my mentor rang in my head.

I had to fight for it.

Everything in my way would get a fist in the face.

I let my fingers trace around the black ink butterfly.

Remembering the spur of the moment twin it had.

At that point, there was no doubt in my mind.

I didn't care if it was hard.

I was going to finish what I started.

I was going to get sober and stay that way.

Get my career back.

And get my guy back.

No matter what.

"And you're going to like it, dammit." I muttered, slapping my cheek, and leaving for the meeting.

"Eli, it's great to see you! We missed you." the woman I'd learned to be Debbie last week, came up to me as I exited the bathroom.

"But hey, you came back! That's the hardest part. You're all set to listen again tonight. Remember, there's no judgment here. We've all been through it."

"Actually, Debbie. I was thinking about saying something today, if that's alright."

Her sweet face turned shocked.

"Don't get me wrong, that's more than alright. But what changed your mind?"

I let my lips curve into a little smirk.

"I'm sick of losing the things I love."

She shot me a big smile, put her arm around me, and walked with me into the chair circle.

We sat and waited for everyone to sit with us.

Five minutes later, the meeting was being convened.

"Eli, would you like to start us off?" she asked.

My pulse kicked up, enough to call it an adrenaline rush.

I nodded and started.

"Hi everyone, I'm Eli." I stated, giving them a small wave.

They greeted me back.

"And as of recently, I realized I'm a alcoholic."

And just then, I was a baby step closer to my goal.

Another second, I was starting down the ten year long path that was my alcoholism.


	8. X Marks the Spot

"Everyone, I'm sad to say, but today will be Eli's last day with us." Debbie announced to the group.

"I want to wish you luck in the time to come, and to remind you. Just because you'll be gone from your sponsor, doesn't mean you're alone. Call night or day, like always."

I smiled at her words.

After my first meeting back from the hospital, and after learning what the hell a sponsor was, I'd asked Debbie to be mine.

She graciously agreed.

And she did a damn good job keeping me on the wagon.

I'd called her in the middle of the night sometimes, craving a drink so bad that I felt like my chest was going to explode.

And some nights, I called her because I didn't know if I could do it.

Like my doctor had reminded me, the anxiety and depression were harder to get rid of.

Even now, sitting in a small group of my peers, I felt them.

"And before we end our meeting for the night, I want to give you this, Eli." she held out her hand to me.

In it was a gold coin reading '30 Days'.

"I know it's a little early, but we won't be able to see you tomorrow."

That was right.

Technically, as of tomorrow, I was 30 days sober.

I held the cool coin in my hand, and felt a smirk grow on my lips.

I'd been to hell and back to get this thing.

Not even the devil himself could take it from me.

When I got back to the ranch, I was greeted by another going away party.

Michelle had set up a much of streamers and balloons.

There was even a banner that read, "We love you Eli!".

Jeeze.

That woman had some serious time on her hands.

After all the hell I'd put them through, there had to be something I could do to make it up to them.

So I insisted to make dinner.

Bad idea.

After I'd ruined the kitchen, and killed us all, Taker went out back and rustled up some mouth watering steaks.

I guessed tonight I got to bypass the ridiculously strict diet he had me on.

I was excited.

When we finished we went to the living room.

And after my objections, Michelle brought out a white box.

I lifted the lid, and looked down at a black, red and purple, leather ring jacket.

"Guys, this must have been really expensive. You shouldn't have."

Michelle instantly shut me up.

"Don't you be worry about that."

"Yeah, enjoy your gift." Taker chimed in while flipping through the channels on his huge TV.

The one I never got to use.

Apparently, no one did.

Except for him.

But however expensive it was, damn it was a nice jacket.

I lifted it out of it's box and looked at it.

It matched my ring gear perfectly.

The purple and red stripes went all the way around the jacket, I flipped it over wondering what that looked like.

There was a giant 'X', that extended from hip to shoulder, on it.

"What's the 'X' for?" I asked dumbfounded.

I couldn't think of a reason.

Michelle smiled and looked at her husband.

I took turned to him.

"It's for the changing days of your sobriety." he muttered, seeming a little embarrassed.

"Please tell me he didn't think of that, because if he did, I'd feel really stupid."

I turned back to asked Michelle, she laughed.

And shook her head no.

"I did. I just wanted him to tell you."

I sighed.

I knew it was too poetic for the Dead-man.

"Well, thanks guys." I said, looking at Taker almost awkwardly.

I wrapped my arm around him for a second.

Yup.

I just hugged the Undertaker.

And it was just as weird to do as it is to say.

Sensing the awkwardness of the moment, Michelle quickly swooped in for her own squeeze.

"So, after all your studying and practice, do you think you're ready for the test?"

I cocked a brow at Taker as he still played with the remote.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I muttered; the anxiety barely at bay.

He shook his head and clicked on what I'd been avoiding these past few weeks.

Monday Night Raw.

Kaitlyn was on the screen.

"This Friday on Smackdown is the supposed, epic return of the great Eli Strong." she paused to laugh.

"Well, after a head injury like yours, Eli, you'd have to be insane to come back." she took a few steps off screen.

It took the camera a second to catch up.

My jaw dropped, I could feel my blood pumping.

She wrapped one of her sick, slimy arms around Punk, and snuggled close to his bare chest.

"It may be Natalya you're facing on Friday, but you've already lost to me."

Her disgusting hand rubbed that chest which I loved so much.

I'd made a point to avoid watching any WWE programs while I was recovering, for this exact reason.

I was afraid of getting so upset that I relapsed.

But right now, drinking was the last thing on my mind.

I wanted to hop on a plane right now, and kick the ever-loving shit out of her.

The camera stayed on the duo long enough for me to catch a glimpse of Punk.

"What the hell?" I said.

Michelle and Taker both giving me a weird look as I grabbed the remote from the arm rest and pressed pause.

Freezing the TV on a frame of Punk.

"What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. His. Face?" I asked, very slowly, mostly to myself.

"It's shaved..." Taker sounded concerned at my level of frustration at his lack of facial hair.

"That slut. I swear to God. If she's the reason behind this, I'm going to cut a bitch!"

That was the final straw for me.

She's pushed my last button.

"I'm not a loser. I don't lose. I never have, I never will. Why the fuck did you show me this?" I snapped, not intentionally, at Taker.

But I was thirty seconds from losing it.

He just smirked.

"That's my girl."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He'd shown me this to piss me off.

And boy did it work.

I had six hours until my flight left for Topeka, Kansas, and I didn't sleep a wink of it.


	9. Five Year Plan

**Hey again all! Hope you're enjoying the sequel thus far! Don't be afraid to review on it's progress! **

**Much love, **

**Skee**

I did however, sleep on the plane ride.

For once in my life.

But at the slightest bump on my seat, I woke up and went all psychotic ninja on everyone's asses.

So it wasn't really sleeping.

It was just eye resting.

When I landed in Topeka, I instantly flipped my hood up and ignored every human being on my way to my hotel room.

Once I was in the hotel, it was harder to ignore people.

Especially when they all knew me.

Tonight was a big night for me.

Not only was I making my in-ring return.

But I was making amends.

I sat in my booze free room, per request, and prepared for my match tonight.

I'd been doing new things during training, and had new muscles that needed stretching.

Which required more time.

Once I was done stretching, I grabbed the gray sweatshirt I still rarely ever took off, and went out for my ten mile run.

As I was making my way back to my room.

I was shoved into the elevator, by two sets of hands.

At this point, I was prepared for the worst, and was about to freak the hell out, when I figured out who it was.

"Oh, it's just you two." I muttered.

Their faces seemed shocked.

"What do you mean just us?" her perfectly tanned face was stretched out, and her blonde brows furrowed.

He didn't look very happy either.

"Kelly. I thought you were someone trying to jump me or something. Not people trying to suffocate me." I muttered.

"Bitch. I missed you." she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me stupidly tight.

"Group hug!" Johnny yelled and enclosed us both in his massive wingspan.

"Ok, I'm done with hugs." I said, a few seconds later they pulled themselves off of me.

But really.

I was loving every second of it.

I had and Earth sized ego.

That's just how I rolled.

"Where the fuck were you? I get a phone call from Jake saying you're in the hospital, and I spend the rest of the month freaking out, not knowing if you're dead or alive!" Kelly said. I could tell she was upset. She was talking awfully fast.

"I broke my phone. A long time ago. And I never got a new one. I still don't have one."

She smirked.

"Now you do." she said, handing me a silver and black bar.

It was the same thing Punk had.

"Don't worry. I used your credit card number." I cocked a brow, about to ask how the hell she got it.

Jakie.

"You have the old one right?" I sighed.

Yep.

This was really happening now, in an elevator.

I reached into my trusty backpack and took out the five pieces of phone I had left.

Screen, top half, bottom half, back, and battery.

The screen had spidered every which way, and had completely come off of the frame; wires and all.

The two halves were completely separate as well.

When I said smashed, I meant it.

Quickly, Kelly took a piece and pressed on some stuff, and out popped a small plastic card.

"At least this part isn't broken." she mumbled, probably not intending me to hear it, and popped the card into the new phone.

She pressed a button on the shinny bar, and it came to life.

And after thirty seconds, I was bombarded with texts and missed calls. 92 texts and 37 missed calls. Not to mention the 25 voicemails.

I groaned.

"Did it ever occur to you that, if I didn't answer your first thirty attempts, that maybe I wasn't going to answer the rest?"

She just smiled at my pain.

The moment reminded me of something I had to do.

Just as I was about to say something, the doors opened.

"Wait, guys."

They stopped and stayed in the elevator.

"I have to tell you something..."

"Well can it wait until we get to your room? We're holding up the elevator." Kelly reminded me, and we were in my room a few moments later.

I explained in detail my first weekend in Austin.

"And as I was getting better, I was doing some,"

I paused for the right word.

"Soul searching. And I even started going to AA meetings."

Kelly interrupted me with a gasp.

"Eli, that's great! But I'm sorry, continue."

"That's why I'm talking to you now. I wanted to say I'm sorry. For all the shit I've put you through all these years."

Kelly didn't say anything, but she did give me another hug.

"Oh, ok. More hugs.." I muttered awkwardly.

"Eli, we love you. That's all that matters. Isn't that right, Johnny?" she asked, he didn't answer right away.

"What would I get if I accepted this apology?"

He didn't get to dream for long before Kelly hit him in the gut.

"I mean, yay, we love Eli." I laughed.

I knew there was a reason these two were my best friends.

"But for right now, we're going to leave you to decipher your phone." Kelly said, dragging Johnny towards the door.

And at that they left me with a phone I had no idea how to use.

And over 100 messages to sort through.


	10. New Beginnings

This was it.

I was making my return to Smackdown, to the WWE Universe, tonight.

I was shaking with excitement.

I'd gotten all my ring gear on, and was holding the white trainers tape I used to wrap my shoulder, in my hands.

I stared at it, then dropped it back into my bag.

New Eli, meant new Eli in every way.

I accepted that I had no control over my alcoholism, now I needed to accept that I had no control over the body I was born with.

I pulled on the new leather jacket I'd gotten from Taker, and grabbed my phone, and left the locker room.

I needed to find someone to help me with this damn phone.

I'd spent over an hour earlier trying to make one damn phone call, before I got pissed.

I was tempted to throw that one too.

A few minutes later I was staring down at Jakie's face on the screen as it screamed H2O, and I had no idea how to stop it.

"Forget how to use a phone, Eli?"

I snapped my head up, seeing my dear friend, Teddy DiBiasie.

I gave him a big ol' smile.

"Hey Teddy! No, I don't know how to use this damn thing in the first place!" I grumbled as his hand came down on my leather clad shoulder.

"Here, let me show you." he laughed, using one finger to get me to the screen that dialed numbers.

"Oh thanks Teddy!"

He smiled his big Southern Gentlemen smile as he backed a few feet down another hallway.

"No thank you, Eli, for coming back! I missed you!"

I laughed.

Then a thought came in my head.

"Hey, did you tell Randy something about me and Punk breaking up?"

Instantly, his blonde brows furrowed, and he walked back towards me.

"No, I didn't even know you were! I'm sorry to hear that."

He heaved a huge sigh.

Like something was worrying him.

"What's up?"

He paused for another second.

"It's just weird. Because I remember hearing Punk say that he didn't want to be the one to break your heart..." he trailed on, seeming honestly confused.

"And the only person I talked to about it was Kelly. But she wouldn't spread rumors about you, would she?"

My jaw dropped.

Kelly?

Never.

I was about to interrogate for more information, when he spoke.

"Wait! There was Kaitlyn. I'm pretty sure she was listening in."

That sounded better.

Her and Randy must have been chatting behind my back.

Sounds like the real Randy Orton to me.

No matter what he used to be like.

We both heard Ted's name being called from down the hall.

"Sorry Eli, gotta go! It's show time!"

He flashed that white-light grin again and dashed away.

I looked down at my phone, and dialed the number to my second apology.

"Hey, I just called. Why didn't you answer?" Jakie's voice buzzed into my ear.

It was hard to think that, a month ago, I would have said I hated him for forcing me to Texas.

But right now, I couldn't thank him more.

"Kelly bought me a new phone and I have no idea how to use it!" I grumbled.

"By the way, how the hell did you get my credit card number?"

He laughed.

"Sorry, it had to be done. But I remember telling her to keep it simple. What'd she end up getting you?"

"How the hell is an iPhone simple?"

"I told her about your technology defect!"

I laughed this time.

I was never good at figuring out new tech.

That's why I'd kept the same phone for the better half of a decade.

I sighed, and remembered why I'd called him in the first place.

"Hey, Jakie."

I started, my tone serious now.

"I just want to say thanks for pushing me to go to Texas,"

"Well. You're welcome. Finally, I get some recognition around here! I'm not just a sexy ass, blind guy here!" he laughed.

"I also want to apologize for being a massive tool."

I could hear him try and choke back a laugh.

"Eli. You're the only person I've ever met, who was a massive tool at the age of five. You don't need to apologize for being yourself."

"Well, thanks. I guess. I meant as of lately. But wow do I feel loved." I muttered.

I heard him laugh.

"And, can you tell Rosie I'm sorry too?"

"For what?"

"For being an absolutely horrible role model. But don't worry. I'm good now."

"I hope it stays like that."

"Don't worry. I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon."


	11. Untouchable

**Hey all! Ohh. It's just starting to heat up in Eli land and the excitement wont stop any time soon! Keep on reading, and reviewing!**

**Have fun.**

**With love,**

**Skee.**

After I got off the phone with Jakie, I went to find Teddy Long.

And asked for a few minutes before my match to talk to the people.

He agreed, but had a few circumstances.

Like, for one, I couldn't mention being suspended.

And, per usual, I had to keep it PG.

I laughed as I walked towards the gorilla.

Like hell either of those would happen.

Then, three.

Two.

One.

"Easy come, easy go, rock n' roll..."

And two steps later, I was neck deep in crowd cheers.

I stood on the stage, and looked out to the stands.

In another breath, I was striding down to the ramp, slapping hands of fans along the way.

I grabbed a mic, and climbed in the ring.

I wouldn't know how long I had before management cut off my mic, so there was no time for hesitation.

I waved at the people, and waited for my music to stop before I spoke.

"Hi everyone." I started sheepishly.

I usually didn't take the mic, unless it was to shoot on someone.

But they cheered me anyways.

"It's great to be back in this ring." I sighed, and took in a huge breath.

"When I talked to Smackdown General Manager Teddy Long a few minutes ago, about speaking to you guys right now, there was a list of things he said I can't mention."

I paused for the boos.

"I know, I know. I said the same thing!"

I waved my arms slightly, trying to calm them so I could continue.

"Like, I can't mention that the injury that I was said to have, was fake."

More boos erupted.

"And that I was really suspended."

Somehow, the arena was filled with so much negativity.

"But, that's not why I'm out here. I've spent the last thirty days rethinking my life. And I decided to fix the wrongs. And one major wrong thing with me, was that I couldn't control my drinking. And I realized I'm an alcoholic."

I could swear right then and there, that the arena was silent.

"But I'm not even out here to tell you that. I'm out here to apologize. Now, I'm not going to give you this ridiculous sob story that'll take up the rest of the show. That'd just be stupid. But real quick, I want to say sorry to all the people I disappointed and that I hope to earn your respect back."

I paused figuring they were about to cut my mic.

After a second of silence, I blew a breath on the mic.

"Oh, wow. This thing is still on? I thought for sure they'd cut my mic by now!"

And suddenly, Natalya's music started.

"But this is much worse." I muttered into the mic, as the blonde power house, formerly my friend, walked down the ramp.

She didn't look happy.

When did she as of late?

"You know, with all that frowning, you're going to end up getting wrinkles."

Her whole face scrunched up at my remark, probably making her more mad.

The bell sounded and Lillian said her lines perfectly.

I pealed back my leather jacket, and could hear Micheal Cole start in on me.

I made a point not to let it get to me.

I was in front of Natalya.

It was a big mistake to be distracted by a goofy little puke talking shit at ring side.

The bell rang again, and Natalya didn't waste any time.

Just the way I liked it.

We exchanged pleasantries a few times before either one of us got a solid hit.

And it wasn't me.

After a few slaps, kidney shots, and knees to the gut, she started to set up for the Sharpshooter.

Instead of panicking too much, I wiggled a foot loose from her grip and kicker her in the stomach.

I scrambled to my feet, and tried to force my leg through her stomach again.

While she was hunched over, I took advantage.

Hooking both of her arms in mine behind her back, I forced her head to the canvas via Double Arm DDT.

But I wasn't done yet.

Natalya's limp body laid partially on top of me.

I pushed my hips out, and kept the arm of hers that was across my chest, between my legs.

I swung my legs out from under her and pushed forward.

This maneuver was one I'd learned while training in Texas.

And it hurt like hell.

It was a few more seconds of applying massive pressure and torquing her shoulder, until Natalya tapped out.

I didn't let go until I heard the bell.

Then my music.

I was out of breath.

And dizzy from the rush of victory.

I stood on shaky legs as the ref raised my arm.

After catching my breath, I hopped up into one of the corners, like usual, and yelled out in triumph.

"I'm back baby!" I yelled towards a camera as the guys got a zoom of my face.

But I wasn't done out here yet.

I leaned between the top and middle ropes and asked for my mic back.

"But before I leave," I heaved, still reeling from the win.

My music died down, and I continued.

"Cole, you play on Twitter all night instead of doing your job, right?"

He dropped his jaw at me.

Booker T and Josh Mathews just laughed and nodded the truth.

"It's part of my job!"

I could barely hear him over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

"Blah, blah blah. I take it that you're on it now?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now, I'd like to issue a challenge."

I turned finding a camera, and talking to it.

"Kaitlyn, if you're watching this. You. Me. This Sunday at the Elimination Chamber PPV. No disqualifications. Winner takes all. What do you say? Don't be afraid to answer via Twitter." I said, making an obnoxiously sophisticated face at the camera.

That's where Cole not doing his job came in handy.

I slid out of the ring, grabbed a chair, and planted my ass next to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Shut up. I don't want Cole cooties." I said into the mic, scooting as close to him as I could stand and stared intently at his iPad, waiting for the response via Twitter.

It wasn't even thirty seconds later, and I got it.

"Read it!" I barked.

Cole started to speak.

"Not you booger-eater, Josh!"

Booker laughed uncontrollably, and Josh hesitantly leaned forward to read the tweet from Kaitlyn.

"Winner takes all, for good. And we have a deal. Try not to be a sore boozer, I mean loser."

Oh.

Ok.

So she was going to be classy.

That was fine.

I could do that too.

I laughed at her attempt at an insult.

She wasn't too smart, I realized.

I pulled the mic back towards me, and lightly tossed it at Cole as I took my leave from ring side.

–

So Teddy wasn't exactly happy with my announcements.

Or the makeshift match he had to put together in just two days.

But the other, and much more fun, Teddy was excited for me.

He especially liked it when I called Michael Cole a booger-eater.

After I was finished getting yelled at by management, I went to the locker room and did a post-match stretch.

By the time I was done and changed back into street clothes, there was only a few minutes left in the show.

I grabbed my bag and went to meet Kelly and Johnny to head back to the hotel.

We were leaving for Des Moines, Iowa, in a few hours.

We had a PPV to promote.

Before I got two feet out the locker room door, I was ambushed by Matt Striker and a ready and willing camera man.

"Eli! A few words please?"

I sighed and nodded.

Another part of my journey to sobriety was evaluating my flaws and fixing them.

One major flaw was my hatred of talking to the press.

And if I wanted to continue being a WWE Diva, it had to be fixed.

"First off, I want to congratulate you on your win out there," I nodded, accepting immediately.

"Second, I know many must be wondering about a few things, your new ink, and your shoulder."

I blinked.

Oh yeah.

That's right.

I'd gotten another tattoo while in Texas.

I looked down at my right arm, black ink spiraled down my forearm.

Starting at my elbow, a Chinese dragon wrapped itself down my skin, until it's mouth opened on the back of my hand.

"Well, Matt. First. I got this tattoo because one like it, and two, because it represents a battle in life that I totally dominated. Like I just did with Natalya out there. And about my shoulder. I can't be ashamed with the body I was born with. I just have to accept it and move on."

I glanced at the camera and did a shooting motion with my index finger.

"Anything else?"

He blinked a few times, and opened his mouth.

"Yes, one last thing. That move out there, what's it called?"

I smirked.

"That, my friend, is known as the omoplata. But I just call it the Monkeywrench."

I'd learned the shoulder bar technique while re-studying Brazilian Jujitsu in Texas.

I'd even earned my purple belt, finally.

And eventually, after being locked in it so many times, the omoplata became second nature to me. "And you're going to be seeing more maneuvers like that, very soon."


	12. You Suck at Love

I was about twenty feet from freedom from the arena, and into the confined spaces of a tour bus with Kelly and Johnny, when I was stopped.

And not stopped like a normal person would stop someone.

I was pulled back by one arm, and slammed, quite literally slammed, hard into the wall.

The air was so close from leaving my lungs because of it.

I opened my eyes to see the scruff covered face of Randy Orton.

And frankly, a year ago, I would have hopped all over that.

But now, I resented the cocky look in his eye.

I could feel his hand on my side, toying with my t-shirt.

"What do you want Randy?"

He smirked wider than before.

"To pick up where we left off last time..." he hinted, leaning down to press his lips to just above my shirt collar.

I paused for only a moment.

It'd been a while and I almost forgot what the hell was happening.

I shoved him back.

"Randy, get off."

But he didn't.

Instead, his hand slipped under my shirt and started to climb.

"Randy, I'm serious. Get the fuck off."

I pushed harder this time, but still nothing.

Randy was over twice my weight, and almost two feet taller than me.

Of course I wasn't going to be able to push him away.

I balled a fist and gave him one last verbal warning.

But still, nothing.

I lodged my fist into his kidney.

Instantly, he turned back.

Now I had his attention.

"If I didn't want you while I was drunk, why the hell would I want you sober? Now get the hell off of me." I demanded, only faintly noticing the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Something I should have noticed right off.

A second later, his hand was around my throat, and I was being forced back into the wall, head first.

My heart stopped.

If I had to say one thing nice about Randy, it was that he'd never hurt me.

Physically at least.

But right then, I had no idea what he was doing, or what was coming next.

"You know what?" he paused, applying more pressure against my neck.

Not enough to suffocate me, but enough to make me work for air in my lungs.

"I'm sick of you stomping all over my feelings."

He didn't sound angry, or upset at all.

He sounded sickly calm.

His voice came out in a fluid, rough, whisper next to my ear.

"I don't know how many times I have to remind you, but I love you, Eli. And you can never escape that."

Being held against a wall stifled my breathing, not my attitude.

"Randy, you had your chance. I've moved on. Get over it. I did."

It came out just louder than the rasp I had in the hospital.

He chuckled that devilish sound, but the look in his eye got darker.

"Oh dear Eli. If only it was that easy." he paused, pushing even harder on my neck.

Now I had a problem.

"I'm not going to lose you to a freak like Punk." he growled, obviously pissed.

If I'd learned anything from the last month, it would be how to survive.

But right now, I was in fight mode.

"That happened a long time ago, Randy."

It was barely a whisper now.

He let out an angry roar at my words and slammed his other fist against the wall.

"No! It will never happen. You're mine. You always have been, always will be."

Before I could voice my opinion on that ridiculous idea, and probably get my oxygen supply cut off completely, Randy's lips came down hard on mine.

His grip on my neck forced me closer to him, and he stayed like that for a few moments.

Then he smiled his evil grin, and walked away.

I didn't move for at least five minutes after he'd disappeared.

I had to catch my breath, and sort through what the hell just happened.

So Randy had fallen off his rocker.

Nothing new.

But it was something I didn't like remembering.

Sure, he never hit me, but the verbal abuse was just as bad, if not worse.

"Hey, Eli. Why are you standing here?"

I heard Kelly ask from the outside door.

She'd just come in to look for me apparently.

I snapped my head up and wore my usual smirk, trying to shrug off what just happened.

"You ok?"

"Yup. Just fine. Let's go."

I hurried us outside, and onto the bus.

Fifteen minutes later we were gone from the arena.


	13. The Price of Freedom

**Sorry these last two were so short, but no worries. The goods are on their way! Thanks for all the hits, and remember! Review! **

**Have fun.**

**With love, **

**Skee**

I didn't sleep well that night.

And I usually slept pretty well while on car rides.

But the adrenaline rush from the victory and what had happened with Randy before we left.

I could still feel the heat of his hand against my throat when we arrived at the new hotel.

I had only a few hours to sleep before PPV media day kicked in, and I'd be off for an early morning talk show.

So, that short time, I spent in the hotel bathroom.

Anxiety setting in.

Sure, I'd beaten probably the best Diva in the business last night, but Kaitlyn played dirty.

And she had a trump card.

After I spent a while doubting my own abilities, I spent the rest of it in a massive depression.

Just because I won him back, didn't mean that Punk would want me.

And I completely understood why.

I was a mess.

Always was and always will be.

And how weird was it, a straightedge guy dating an alcoholic chick?

Totally strange.

At this point, the only person who wanted me, was Randy.

And, frankly, if I was stuck with him for the rest of my life, it definitely would be short lived.

The overwhelming urge, need, for a drink started to fester inside me.

It made it hard to breathe.

And before I knew it, I was racking the business end of my busted razor against my fore arm.

No victory in the world was worth living through Randy's abuse one more time.

Another swipe later, I felt a pinch against my arm.

At that moment, digging the blade into my flesh was the only thing keeping me from the bottle whiskey I'd been dreaming about for weeks.

Suddenly, there was a knock on my bathroom door.

"Eli, let's go." Johnny's voice literally making me jump out of my skin.

Knocking my head back to reality and the blade from my hands.

I looked down at the bleeding slice.

"Shit." I muttered.

"Yeah. Give me another second. I'll meet you downstairs."

And at that he was gone, hopefully.

I ran the cut under the water, and slapped a couple band-aids on it.

I didn't have time to baby myself.

I had shit that needed to get done.

I left the bathroom, slipped on the sweatshirt/jacket combination I had, and went to meet my friends downstairs.


	14. Let the Games Begin

I couldn't say that I was nervous, sitting in the locker room contemplating the next hour of my life.

But I could say, I was concerned.

Concerned for what would happen if I didn't win.

If I couldn't win him back.

I forced those thoughts from my mind and finished getting ready.

I reached down and counted every time I fed the laces of my boots through each hole.

I unzipped my bag, and pulled out the trainers tape.

But not for my shoulder.

This time I would use it to cover up the cut marks on my arm.

Since yesterday, there was at least four more.

After a few times around, I stored the tape back in it's pocket.

As I stared down into my bag, I stared right at the greatest head game ever.

She may have Punk in her clutches.

But I had my own trick up my sleeve.

I grabbed my ring jacket and the small bundle of leaves and left the locker room behind.

I searched high a low for my ex-boyfriend.

Wow did it feel weird referring to him as that.

Along the way, I'd grabbed a folded up chair.

I'd need it if I wanted to use my winnings from months ago, that I'd forgotten about.

Finally, after almost twenty minutes, I'd found him, talking to Matt Striker.

"Matt, I'm going to sit this one out. These ladies need to settle things on their own. And me being involved would just-" Punk stopped talking as I strolled up.

But Matt had just started.

"Eli, are you prepared for your no disqualifications match with Kaitlyn tonight?"

I gave him a dumb look, but stayed focused on the matter at hand.

I placed the chair in front of me, opening it up.

"Is that a weapon you'll be using against Kaitlyn?" I paused.

I hadn't thought of that.

I looked up at Matt, then at the camera man.

My eyes widened as I realized that probably the whole arena was going to see what I was going to do.

With wide eyes still, I looked back to Matt.

"Nope."

And at that I stepped up onto the chair.

Slightly taller than eye level with Punk.

I pulled the bundle of mistletoe from my jacket pocket and left no time for second thoughts.

On my part or his.

I raised the leaves over our heads and repressed a smirk as I leaned in a pressed my lips to his.

Hot damn.

Kissing him was the best kind of intoxication.

I was shaking so bad, my knees were seconds away from buckling underneath me.

I felt his shaven face with my other hand.

It wasn't completely gone, there were still the tiny prickles that had grown back in the days since his last shave.

It was a pleasant surprise indeed.

I pulled back to see his eyes lightly shut, I couldn't help the smirk now.

He opened them, but I couldn't look at them.

Not at least in front of a rolling camera.

I hopped down from the chair and folded it back up, looking at the camera.

"My job here is done."

I turned and left the three guys standing there, confusion written all over their faces.

From there I went to finish my workout.

I'd gotten pretty attached to that chair after that, so I ran around the arena with a steel chair clutched to my chest.

"Eli!"

I heard my name from down the hall.

I turned to see a blonde and brunette running towards me.

I repressed the greatest groan ever.

And waited for them.

"Hey Eli, I hope you're feeling better." AJ smiled at me.

Sure she was sweet.

But her pep made me want to shake babies.

And I loved babies.

I cocked a brow and looked to the blonde.

"Oh I'm feeling fine. Just a little agitated that Kelly told the whole world what happened."

She scoffed.

"Uh, hello. You told the world on Friday. Literally. So hop off."

She couldn't hide the smirk.

Right.

I had done that.

"Oh. Well, thanks. I guess."

"And what was that steamy moment with Punk about? I thought you two were on the outs." Kelly asked breaking the awkward silence that followed.

I laughed.

"Head game. But what do you want Kelly? I'm busy." I said, motioning to the course I was now neglecting on my running trip.

"We wanted to tell you that we're going to be at ring side for you tonight. You know, back up."

She winked at the secret meaning.

Back up as in the ass kicking kind.

I instantly shook my head.

"No, Kelly."

"What the hell do you mean no?"

She seemed stunned at my refusal.

A month ago, I would have taken it without hesitation.

"This is a battle I have to win myself. I appreciate it. But no thanks."

And at their dumbstruck faces, me and my chair dashed off.

I heard the gorilla crew yelling for me a few minutes later.

"I don't fucking care if you love her. I want her broken tonight. I'm not going to lose to her. Not after I got everything I want."

I heard a familiar, disgusting, voice from down a darkened hallway.

"That is unless you want to lose any chance you have with her?"

"Kaitlyn, don't you dare threaten me."

Randy's angry voice filled my ears.

Too many late nights with him made that sound burn into my memory.

It sent shivers down my spine.

"The only one of us who's going to lose something, is you. She's mine, she just doesn't realize it yet."

His anger soothed into that sickly calm voice.

Frankly, it was scarier than the angry one.

"Remember this Randy. If I go down, you're coming with me."

I faintly heard his growl.

She'd pissed off the wrong guy, and I wanted to watch so bad what he'd do to her.

But instead of a beat down, he laughed his devilish chuckle.

I realized then that he was just an awfully evil man.

How did I miss that all the years I was obsessed with him?

"What did you have in mind?"

His words snapped me back from my thoughts.

"Whatever needs to get done. Just make sure I win that match."

Maybe I should have rethought doing this myself.

I heard foot steps coming towards me.

Quickly I scanned the hall way for somewhere to hide.

No where.

Just my luck.

I took a deep breath, and sprinted down the hallway, turning down the first one I saw.

"Eli, it's showtime." a random crew member said, scaring the crap right out of me.


	15. Third Time's the Charm

My music started and I paraded down the ramp Daniel Bryan style.

One hand in the air, chair in the other.

I slipped into the ring and opened the chair, planing my ass in it backwards.

Kaitlyn was next.

And I was taken by surprise.

Randy wasn't glued to her ass.

The bell rang and the action was underway.

Well, after some much needed trash talk.

"Kissing Punk like that, real classy Eli." Kaitlyn muttered after I stood and kicked the chair away from us.

"That makes two of us, Kaitlyn." I smirked.

That was the only talking either of us did for a while after we locked up.

Followed by some forearms to the face.

I was setting up for the Jersey Jaw Dropper, when Kaitlyn's massive arm connected with my already tender throat, knocking me to the canvas.

Almost immediately after I landed, I was graced with an elbow to the heart.

Damn that hurt.

I felt Kaitlyn grip my hair, pulling me to my feet.

She kept a good grip on it too.

No disqualifications meant hair pulling was legal.

She whipped me around a little before throwing me to the rubber coated floor.

Again, damn that hurt.

I made it to my feet despite my aching head, and chest.

But I didn't get to breathe for long.

Kaitlyn was right back on me, dragging me into the ring.

And by the hair, she yanked the back of my head towards the mat.

My hands instantly went to my scalp as I rolled to my side.

Almost instantly I found myself being pinned.

Both legs hooked, and Kaitlyn's body crushing mine, I barely wiggled my arm out and shoulder up.

She growled and grabbed a fist full of my hair.

I was standing on both feet, being lifted into a scoop slam, and back on the mat in a thud.

I barely got the breath back in my lungs before I felt her body collide with mine again.

This time it was, what William Regal called her nut cracker, thighs to my increasingly tender throat and chest.

I sat up, clutching my throat, and made my way towards the ropes.

I was sitting on the middle turnbuckle when Kaitlyn found her way back to me.

Like hell I was going to lose.

This was my kind of match.

No rules.

I readied myself for her next move, which was exactly what I'd assumed.

She ran full force towards me, intending to smother me between her and the turnbuckles.

Quickly I side stepped, grabbing her top strap, and throwing her towards the corner.

I doubted that it made much of a difference, but Kaitlyn stayed hung up in the ropes and ring post for a few seconds.

Allowing me time to actually breathe.

I slipped out of the ring, and searched for the new friend I'd made today.

Mr. Steel-chair.

I could hear Cole whining about how it was unnecessary that I brought the chair into the situation, but Booker and Jerry quickly shut him up.

I slipped under neath the bottom rope again, and stood behind Kaitlyn, continuously slamming the chair on to the ring mat.

It making a loud and painful smacking noise every time.

Finally, Kaitlyn made it to her feet and was turning around.

Once I saw her face, I pulled the chair back, and with all my might, pushed it forward.

It would have been a finishing blow, if I hadn't made a rookie move and closed my eyes.

Kaitlyn connected her massive boot with my stomach, and the chair dropped from my hands.

I gripped my aching gut, which left my back open for a chair shot, which Kaitlyn didn't spare me of.

The air left my lungs, and the force of the shot itself landed me flat on the canvas.

"Get out here now!" I heard her scream.

If I had a coherent thought in my head, I would have known it was Randy, before his music sounded.

I rolled away from where I thought Kaitlyn was, and plopped myself back on the rubber lined floor near the announce table.

I dared to open my eyes, and spied Randy on a war path towards me.

Quickly, I crawled towards the ring again. But instead of climbing back in to some more pain, I lifted the apron and searched for anything to stop him.

I'd finally wrapped my fingers around the wooden handle of a kendo stick, when I felt the huge paw of Randy wrap around my leg.

He yanked me out from under the ring to, what I could only assume, suffer the long over due beat down for turning him down.

I'd flopped onto my back, ignoring the searing pain, and without a second thought I swung with the kendo stick right for Randy's face.

I made sure to keep my eyes open this time.

But it wouldn't have changed anything.

Randy released my leg, and used that same hand to grab the stick, mid swing.

I tried to pull it back, but he just held tight.

His face held that sick smile of satisfaction, now with a twinge of anger.

I'd literally just poked the viper with a stick.

Quickly I scrambled to my feet, backing up very slowly.

For every step Randy took towards me, I had to take three back just to maintain the space between us.

I stumbled around the steel steps, and kept close to the ring apron.

Bad idea.

I took a few more steps and was met with Kaitlyn's baseball slide to the shoulder.

It forced me to stumbled towards the barricade.

Which I smashed my head off of.

Contrary to common belief, it hurts when you smash your head off things.

I was holding my head with one hand, and trying to muster the upper body strength to push myself off of the floor, when I saw movement from the corner of my eye.

It was Randy running full force towards me.

I didn't have much time to think about what to do, I just did it and forced myself backwards.

Flopping onto my back, Randy's massive, size 13, boot just grazed by my face.

Seriously.

I was getting pretty fed up with him interfering in my matches.

So I delivered a hit that was sure to keep him out for a little bit.

As he caught himself against the barricade, and was taking a step back, when I snapped my arm up between his legs.

Instantly, he was on the ground, writing in pain.

But I didn't spend much time worrying about him, I had a match to win.

And now I was pumped enough to do just that.

When I looked back towards the ring, Kaitlyn was staring, jaw dropped, right in the center.

I hopped up on the apron, and just stood there, staring holes into Kaitlyn's soon to be unconscious skull.

I didn't even enter the ring before she sprang at me.

But after one swift elbow, I grabbed her head and jumped down on to the floor.

I took a sick satisfaction at watching her head bounce off of the canvas.

But I wasted no time, and slipped between the ropes, right back on the attack.

Quickly shaking off the underhanded trick I'd used, Kaitlyn came back at me full steam, preparing for another devastating clothesline.

I ducked down and jumped onto the second rope, hoping like hell Kaitlyn was right behind me.

And she was.

Thankfully.

If she hadn't been there, I would have been in a world of hurt.

I caught her in a cross body, and when we landed, I quickly made the cover.

I felt her hands thrust up on my chest at the ref's count of two.

On some level, I was glad she kicked out.

As ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted to make her tap out.

I took my time getting up, it wasn't like she was a threat.

By the time I was on my feet she was barely making it off her knees.

I waited patiently, sitting in the corner, for her to get to her feet.

And finally, she did, and I was right back on the prowl.

I grabbed her arm, and twisted it around. It was as good a time as ever to put her away right now.

I kept her arm extended, and jumped up, swung a leg over her shoulder.

With the momentum from my movement, I forced her chest onto the mat.

Her arm was trapped between my legs, just begging for me to lean forward.

The crowd had gone from confused to the edge of their seat in a matter of seconds.

And I wasn't one to leave them hanging.

I pushed and forward on her arm, instantly making her tap out.

Just how I wanted it.

I waited a few seconds after the bell rang before I let her go, just for good measure.

At that moment, I couldn't feel anything but the relief victory brought.

The ref grabbed my arm, and hoisted it as high as my shoulder would let it go.

After he released me, I hopped, tiredly, onto a corner and raised my own arms in the air.

The crowd was screaming so loud that I couldn't even hear my own cry of victory.

I jumped down, and looked around at the carnage around me.

Kaitlyn, nursing her shoulder.

Randy, nursing his balls.

I couldn't help but leave the ring with a smile.


	16. Unstoppable

**Hey all! I just got done watching the showcase of the immortals! Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did! Enjoy the rest of WrestleMania day, and the next chapter! **

**Have Fun.**

**With love,**

**Skee **

"Eli! That was amazing! How did you do that!"

I got yelled at me the second I came off of the stage and into the gorilla.

Kelly ran right up to me and hesitated a second.

I knew she wanted to hug me, so opened my arms.

It was a night of celebration, why not?

"I've told you a million times Kelly, I'm just that good."

We both laughed for a little bit, until Johnny came up behind us and bear hugged us.

He even shook us around a little too.

Once he let go, Kelly did too.

And I was suddenly dizzy.

But my two best friends caught me in time to steady me.

"But let's go to the medic to make sure your head is properly inflated."

We laughed for a few more minutes, as we made our way to the medic office.

He sat me down on the table and flashed some lights in my eyes, and poked me a bit only to tell me that I might want to take it easy the next couple of days.

I nodded.

Since I wasn't on a war path anymore, I could actually relax for five minutes.

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Kelly asked as she walked through the door of the medic office.

I turned back towards her with a questioning look.

"We have to celebrate." she said like I was an idiot.

I shot her a disapproving look.

"Don't worry, no alcohol needed for this one."

"All I want to do is go back to the hotel and go to sleep. We can celebrate another time."

She sighed at my utter lack of excitement.

I was dirt tired.

And just thinking about doing anything else tonight was painful.

But she didn't fight it.

We walked back to the locker room, and changed.

Next thing I knew I was sitting in my hotel bathroom again, thinking entirely too much, and depression sinking in.

Alright.

So I won the match.

That didn't mean damn shit anymore.

After I'd changed, and was leaving the arena with Kelly, AJ, and Johnny, Triple H came and pulled me aside for a few moments.

"Eli, I want to congratulate you on the win out there. I'm happy to see your time off did some good. But seeing you preform gave me an idea. I want to see you do more singles matches, rather than tag team."

And at that, of course, I had my objections.

"I'm not saying you can't ever continue with the mixed-tag team thing, but for right now I want you in singles matches. Teddy and I agreed as we watched your match, you work better alone. Plus, it's not all bad. You can go after the championship now."

He was right, the Divas gold was a very bright possibility for me now.

And it didn't sound half bad.

But mixed-tag team was my growing, slowly but surely, baby.

I'd pushed for so long to bring it back, and I had huge plans.

So having that postponed was a major bummer.

But as I sat on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom I felt relieved that I wasn't going to be tag team partners with anyone.

That meant I didn't have to be around Punk when he probably couldn't stand the sight of me.

I was more than willing to jump back into his arms and pick up where we left off, but if he didn't want to I wasn't going to try.

All I wanted to do right then, was take a big old gulp of some really expensive whiskey.

I'd gone into the bathroom, intending to take a shower, now all I could think about was showering myself in alcohol.

That is, until I raked the silver blade across the flesh of my wrist.

For some twisted reason, I'd kept the busted razor.

Probably for moments like this.

The one small cut quickly dripped the tiniest bit of blood.

And forced away a tiny bit of temptation with it.

I had to do it again.

And again.

And eventually, it all went blank.


	17. Temptations of the Flesh

**Hey all! I just wanted to make sure you're all enjoying the story thus far! Please, remember to review after you read! I want to write a story you'll like! **

**Have Fun. **

**Much love, **

**Skee.**

I rubbed my eyes as I woke up.

And suddenly, I noticed a weight next to me.

I snapped my head up to see what, or who, it could be.

"Well hello there."

I practically jumped out of my skin, and off the bed, at his smooth, hushed tone.

He was sitting against the head board, arms crossed over his chest, and staring down at me with those blue eyes that could eat holes through my soul.

"I see you're awake now."

I instantly stood up, only feeling slightly dizzy.

"What am I doing here and how did I get here?" I asked with fully furrowed brows.

"What do you mean?"

Now his brows were furrowed.

"Don't fuck with me Randy."

My fists balled in anticipation of having to fight my way out of his room.

"Um. I'm not. You came here. Don't you remember?" he asked, starting to look concerned at my confused expression.

No.

No I did not.

I had no memory of how or why, I was in to Randy's hotel room.

"You knocked on my door like three hours ago, and barged right in, and yelled at me about your match. Then you passed out on my bed. So I sat here, watching TV until you woke up."

I cocked a brow.

"Do you really not remember any of that?"

I brought my hand to my head and slowly shook my head.

"Is that normal?"

"It's not the first time." I admitted.

While in Texas, I'd had times where I had no memory of conversations or actions.

At first, Michelle and Taker thought I was fine, but after a phone call to the doctor, he said that those times had to be carefully monitored.

It was dangerous to go about the day seeming normal, and not remember what happened.

And now I realized why.

Because you might end up in Randy Orton's hotel room.

"I have to go." I muttered and quickly walked towards the door.

I'd taken only two steps before Randy spoke up.

"Wait!"

I stopped but didn't turn around.

"What Randy?" I sighed.

"Don't you want to hear my answer?"

I had to turn back to him now.

"Why would I even care? And how would I know you're telling the truth?"

"You cared enough in your subconscious to come here and demand an answer."

His face turned serious.

"And you've always known when I'm lying."

My stomach turned.

Dammit.

He was right.

I sighed again.

"You have five minutes." I grumbled, taking the steps back to the bed and leaning my back against the head board.

I looked up at Randy, he could barely hide the smirk on his face.

"Yes. Please explain to me how you thought it was ok to try and punt my face off? I'd love to hear your excuse for that one..." I muttered the last bit, knowing full well that he heard it.

Just saying that sparked my anger.

I was itching to punch someone.

"And don't even tell me that Kaitlyn made you. I heard your conversation in the hallway. I'm not stupid."

I gripped the blanket under neath me, my knuckles instantly going white.

"I knew you'd avoid it."

At that I scowled at him.

"And I knew it would get you pissed enough to win the match."

I narrowed my brow into a questioning gaze.

"I may not want to lose you, but I sure as hell don't want you to hate me."

His eyes were a puppy dog blue.

Not the icey ones I'd seen so often.

They reminded me of better days.

Suddenly, I realized that they were starting to melt away my aggression.

There was a awkward pause.

"Sorry about the nut shot." I stated quickly.

He chuckled.

"It's ok."

But after he said it, I saw him rub the crotch of his pants lightly.

His face didn't look too fond of the memory of me taking out the family jewels.

I couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Wait, then what about last Friday? What the hell was that?"

I snapped from my laughter, back to the accusing tone.

He'd practically scared the shit out of me.

I wasn't sure if he was going to kill me or what.

And I wasn't about to let it go.

Again he sighed.

"Eli. You make me crazy. Literally. I was excited for your return. And when I saw you I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't sure what was happening until after."

He leaned his forehead against the side of mine.

I'd turned back forwards, afraid to get lost with him.

I was almost afraid to be in the same room with him.

"I'm sorry I scared you." he whispered into my ear after kissing my cheek.

His husky voice held nothing but genuineness and a little bit of actual love.

I froze for a second.

I had no idea what was happening.

Or what to do.

Randy was putting the moves on and I was clueless on what to do next.

Do I swat him away and leave?

Or do I give in to the temptation, like I so wanted to.

I'd realized it before, at this point, the only person who would ever want me was Randy, I was sure.

But I knew Randy.

I knew what he was like, mean, harsh, and abusive.

Or at least I thought I did.

Over the last few months, I'd seen a different Randy.

A nicer one.

Actually, the only time he'd yelled at me, or even obviously gotten mad at me, was on New Years when we were drunk.

And that wasn't going to happen again anytime soon.

"I wasn't scared." I grumbled, finally able to release that poor comforter and cross my arms over my chest.

I heard Randy's smooth chuckle against my ear.

"Ok sure." he muttered, kissing my cheek again.

His hand came up to my other cheek and gripped my face lightly, turning it towards him.

I was nose to nose with him, his blue eyes burning as he stared at me.

"Then what was it?"

My heartbeat quickened, still not knowing what to do.

I playfully narrowed my eyes at his smirk.

"I was startled."

He chuckled again, and leaned in to whisper against my lips.

My heart was about to burst out of my chest, it was thumping so fast.

He could probably hear it.

"Whatever you say."

And his lips were against mine.

Not aggressive like one would think, but they were gentle, and sweet.

This was the Randy I liked.

I liked it enough to jump in the sack with him after having one conversation all those years ago.

And it still did things to my heart.

Sure, the sexy Randy, with that hit of sensual danger, was great, but the goofy, sweet one was way better.

My higher reasoning functions had all halted, and I let my eyes close.

His hand at my cheek loosened, it brushing back some falling strands of hair and sliding down my neck.

I felt mine reach up a brush the thick scruff along his cheek, tempting me further.

To my own surprise, I was the one to move things further along, and slicked my tongue into his mouth just a tiny bit.

Of course Randy took it as an invitation to go even further.

His hand made it down to the hem of my shirt, his fingers poking under neath.

My own hand stayed against his face, keeping his mouth on mine.

I felt his hand glide across my stomach, goosebumps breaking out.

My heart beat somehow quickened in anticipation for the next few moments.

But I pulled away.

Every instinct screamed at me to continue.

My fingers stayed on his cheek as I watched his eyes for a reaction.

It wasn't exactly the one I was expecting.

Instead of anger, he seemed almost sad.

"Randy, I-"

I didn't know how to say it.

I'd never felt like this before.

All I wanted at that moment was to just let go for once and have a break from this constant depression.

"It's ok. I've been an ass. I know it's going to take a while until you can forgive me."

Maybe that was it.

Maybe I just needed to get used to the idea of Randy again.


	18. Sleepless

**Hey all. I'm loving the reviews. Keep it up! Thanks a bunch!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

I hadn't slept since I'd left Randy's room over four hours ago.

I didn't sleep well to begin with, but the hour or so I slept in Randy's room was the best sleep I'd gotten in months.

So knocking on his door now was a necessity.

I had to at least see if I could sleep.

I had no other options.

After a few minutes, Randy opened his door, in total shock.

"Can I come in?" I asked sheepishly, arms crossed over my chest.

He seemed surprised by my presence.

And if it wasn't for the sleep deprivation, I would be too.

"So what's up?" he asked after letting me in.

We were back sitting on his bed, against the head board.

It all dark aside from the one bed side lamp.

"I couldn't sleep." I muttered.

"So you come here?" he paused.

"Not that I mind, it's just you've been avoiding me for months. Why not go see Kelly or even Johnny?"

"I haven't been been sleeping the past few weeks. Like at all. After waking up here earlier I realized that was the first time in a long time I could actually sleep undisturbed." I muttered, feeling so incredibly awkward about the whole thing.

Especially since Randy was just in his underwear.

"And plus, Kelly already left for Raw."

"What about Punk?"

I stopped breathing at that point.

It was barely a whisper, his question.

But it all but knocked me off the bed.

I stumbled around with my words for a few seconds.

"Seeing as I didn't hear from him while I was in Texas or after I came back, I'm thinking we're done."

I finally admitted out loud.

And it wasn't exactly easy either.

I could feel my eyes start to burn.

But instead of crying, I yawned.

The cat nap earlier could only keep be energized for so long.

"Go to sleep. We can talk in the morning." Randy stated, slouching under the covers.

He looked up at me, his hands behind his head.

"Don't worry. I don't bite."

I laughed out loud, holding a unsure look towards him.

He could barely hold back the smirk, how could I be sure he wouldn't try anything.

"But I'm serious. Nothing will happen." he paused as I slipped under the covers next to him.

"Not without the magic word at least."

I had to turn and look at his face now.

I could hear in his voice that he was just teasing me.

But I had to look.

Just to make sure.

His smirk just got wider.


	19. Closet Full of Skeletons

**Hey all! I wanted to wish, those who celebrate it, a happy Easter. And if you don't, then happy sunday! Thanks for being such good readers and reviewing! I'll keep up the good story, if you keep up with the great reviews! **

**Much love,**

**Skee. **

I woke up the next morning to my phone going off.

I rubbed my eyes, and looked at the screen.

It reading blocked.

I sighed.

"Hello?"

I'd probably been asleep for three hours, and the sun was already coming above the horizon.

"How's my favorite baby sister doing?" he sounded way to chipper for it being so early.

"You know, besides tired and grumpy." my brothers usual sarcasm starting up.

"I'm fine. Why are you calling Marcus?" I grumbled, staring at the ceiling.

I felt Randy stir next to me.

That was the main reason why I wasn't too excited to hear from my brother this morning.

He hated Randy.

For multiple, very good, reasons.

So I had to be very careful not to let on that I was with Randy.

"Well then, I take time out of my oh so busy day to check in, after hearing you almost died, to see how you're doing and I get snubbed. That's the last time I care." he started to pretend to cry.

"What busy day? You're in prison." I retorted.

Marcus laughed, and was about to answer, when my luck ran out.

"Who called you?" Randy asked, stupidly loud.

I sighed when I heard my brother go silent.

He'd heard.

And I was in for the ass-chewing of the century.

Randy just looked confused at my expression.

"It's my brother." I whispered, moving the phone away from my lips.

Randy's brows instantly shot up as he realized his mistake.

He knew full well where Marcus was, and what he was capable of.

Also, that if he ever got out, where his first stop would be.

I waited anxiously for a response from the other end of the phone call.

"Who was that?"

Marcus's tone obviously angered.

"And don't even try to bullshit me, Eli."

"Marcus, it's no one to worry about."

"No. I'm going to worry about it. That wasn't Punk's voice. And obviously, you don't want me knowing, or else you would have told me. I'm not going to let some douche bag sleep around with my little sister." he paused, enough to shock me with his knowledge.

"Eli, I spend all day reading psych books. So just tell me."

"Marcus." I groaned.

Why was my brother so annoyingly over protective?

Randy tapped my shoulder, and motioned to me he was going to take a shower.

Smart idea.

If I could get away with it, I would too.

Nothing was said until Randy was in the bathroom and the water was on.

"It was Randy." I admitted.

And the conversation went exactly where I expected, from there.

"Are you serious? Why are you hanging out with him again? And why the hell is Punk letting you? Does he not know what happened between you two?" he all but yelled.

My reply was much quieter.

"Me and Punk broke up."

But that just seemed to make Marcus more mad.

"What the hell for?"

"I don't even know. We got into a fight and I tried to call him back, but he didn't answer. I haven't talked to him since December."

It'd actually been almost two months since that tiny little fight?

Wow.

It'd felt like two years.

"And plus, he wasn't too concerned about me when I was suspended."

"Wait, wait, wait." Marcus started.

"I saw the show last night, what the hell was that all about?"

"How the hell did you see that?"

He was in prison, I doubted they let him order a PPV.

They can't let him get away with that much, can they?

"Don't try and change the subject Eli."

I sighed.

"I only did it because it knew it would get Kaitlyn pissed off."

Now Marcus sighed.

"Why Randy?" he asked much more calm than before.

But instead of angry, he just sounded disappointed now.

"After all the torment he put you through, can you at least answer me that?"

"I don't even know why. He all but kicked the shit out of me last night, and on Friday he practically jumped me."

I paused.

"Marcus, ever since I got out of the hospital, I've been having random blackouts. My doctor told me that some side effects of the withdrawal would stick with me for a while. Like depression and anxiety. And because I'm so anxious and depressed all the time, I can't sleep. I haven't had a decent nights sleep since before this whole mess started."

I paused, taking a breath.

"Apparently, last night, I came to Randy's room and yelled at him for a little bit then fell asleep. And when I woke up, I felt the most rested I have in months. And I was only asleep for an hour! I tried to sleep later, but I couldn't, so I came back. And within five minutes I was out."

I heard my brother sigh again.

I waited for him to yell again, but he didn't.

"I was afraid of this." he started.

"But I figured that it would have happened sooner."

"Marcus, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked, honestly and completely, confused.

"Depression runs in our family. Mom had it."

Well that hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Why? When? And why the hell did no one tell me?"

"It was right after you were born. No one told you, Eli, because it was a dark time for her. For all of us. She couldn't care for her own baby, and it tore her up inside. I wasn't even ten yet, and I could see that. Plain as day. And you weren't exactly an easy child to care for..." he trailed on.

"Wait, you're saying I'm the reason mom was depressed?"

I sat up, cross legged, on the bed.

I couldn't think about sleep now.

"Basically. Did you never wonder why you and Dad were so close?"

Actually, I hadn't. I just thought it was how dads were.

"For the first six months, he was the only one who could touch you. Eventually, you let me. But every time mom tried, you'd just scream until dad came home to fix it. It really did a number on her, for a long time. Once you got older, and actually started bonding with her, she didn't want to let you go. That's why she home-schooled you in kindergarten." he paused, as a man in the background spoke.

"Eli, I have to go. But I'll call you tomorrow, and we can talk more."

And at that, I sat alone on a bed that wasn't mine, to reflect on the fact that I was the reason my mother was diagnosed with depression.

And if hers was anything like mine, that made things even worse.


	20. Enter the Lion's Den

There was only one thing I wanted the moment I hung up the phone with Marcus.

Well, when Randy came out of the bathroom with only a towel on, it was two.

I quickly shook the second one from my thoughts though.

And immediately felt like a whore.

But the first one was on my mind of the rest of the day.

And the rest of the week.

Even days later, while I spent a good hour on the phone with Kelly, in between doing interviews and whatnot.

I was on my way to another media thing for the next day's Smackdown, as we spoke.

I couldn't help keep it from my voice, or lack thereof.

"So what's got Captain Inner-Demon-Slayer all silent?" she asked, changing the subject from her new nail polish.

I blinked, knocking me back into the conversation, and stumbled with my response.

"Nothing."

But her answering pause seemed far from convinced.

I sighed.

And lied.

"It's just Punk."

"Oh yeah, how is your man-hunt going?" she paused to laugh slightly at her punny joke.

It wasn't that punny.

Or funny.

I sighed again.

"Halted. Why waste my time when obviously I'm getting nowhere. He didn't even come visit me after my match."

Kelly gave me a confused, 'uhhuh'.

I elaborated.

"Ever since I'd met Punk, he'd always come by and see me after my match some time before he left. You know, just to congratulate me or make sure I wasn't seriously hurt."

I reflected on the truth I told her.

I'd known him for years.

So not hearing from him after such an event like that, was a major shock.

Kelly's silence was worrisome.

Which made me worry.

"What's up?" I asked.

She quickly turned up the pep, making me die inside.

"Oh it's nothing." she brushed it off, and proceeded to talk about her new hair cut.

End of subject I guessed.

It wasn't so bad.

At least now I could go back to wishing to drive into a truck filled with alcohol, so I could taste it as I died.

When I got to the new hotel in Portland, Oregon, later that night, I had a lot of things on my mind.

You know, aside the ache for booze.

There was the fact that I'd been the reason behind my mother's depression, I couldn't sleep, I lied to my best friend, and that this morning I had the urge to throw Randy down on the bed and, you know.

Have sex with him.

So I kind of deserved sitting on the bathroom floor right then.

The fake tile and wooden door just added to the horrible feeling I had.

But the pinch of the blade made that tiny bit disappear.

The next few made the most of everything go away, including my consciousness.

When I came to, I was sitting, sipping on some Pepsi out of a fancy cup, with Johnny.

I all but dropped, and broke, the glass as I realized I had no idea how I got there.

"Are you ok?" he asked, snapping from his previous, sketchy, expression to a new, sketchy, expression.

I blinked a few thousand times, and replied.

"Yeah, just fine."

Again, I lied to another one of my best friends.

But Kelly already had him on Eli- Booze watch.

If I told him I was having blackouts, he'd have to tell Kelly, and neither of them would be able to do anything else but worry.

This was just another battle I'd have to fight solo.

I managed to survive the rest of dinner without giving away I had no idea where the last few hours had gone.

It was just a short walk back to the hotel, and up to my room.

Instead of taking the ever so hateful elevator, I ran the stairs.

Hoping it, and the long day I'd had, would tire me out enough to sleep a few hours.

After showering, and changing into some pajamas, I crawled under the covers for a few hours.

Midnight rolled around, and I stared off in to the darkness.

Another hour, and still the same.

I sighed, and slipped on my sneakers.

I only had one option now.


	21. Blondie and the Huntsman

I'd sent Randy a text, trying to find where his room was.

Eventually, after gallivanting around the hotel for a few minutes, I found his room.

But not without stopping to grab a drink from a vending machine along the way.

"Where'd the Pepsi come from?" he asked after letting me in.

I went and slouched in the comfy chair that was stuffed away in the corner of the room.

"The vending machine down the hall."

I looked up at Randy, who was across the room from me, a smirk growing on his lips as I popped open the can.

Suddenly, I felt cold fuzz all over my hand, and down the front of my shirt.

"Dammit!" I muttered, standing up and walking towards the bathroom.

"Maybe next time you should wait before opening a venting machine soda..." Randy teased.

I laughed sarcastically.

"My shirt is soaked. And sticky." I grumbled.

"I got to go get a new one..." I muttered stepped out of the bathroom and towards the outside door.

"Or you could just use one of mine."

I turned to give Randy a questioning look.

"You're just going to fall asleep in like five minutes anyways."

He didn't wait for my response before he threw one of his t-shirts at me.

He was right.

I had a long day and I could start to feel it coming down on me.

I went and changed in the bathroom.

The shirt, on Randy, would fit snug on his hips, but I was lost in it.

I opened the door to see an already lounging Randy, watching some sort of car show.

I plopped down next to him, against the head board, and stared at the TV.

Instantly getting bored.

I groaned.

"Can we please watch something else?" I grumbled, Randy just laughed.

"No way. It's a new episode!"

I sighed, and plopped my cheek on his shoulder.

I felt my eyes start to droop, and eventually, I was asleep.

It felt like seconds later, when Randy woke me.

"Lay down and sleep." his voice was soft.

Which I appreciated in my sleepy state.

I didn't argue with him, and dropped my face straight into the pillow.

But this time it took a few more minutes to fall asleep.

And Randy talking to the TV didn't help much either.

"Hey, Rand." I mumbled into the pillow.

"What?"

"Shut up." I groaned, he just laughed.

I could feel his hand glide across my back.

I was about to ask what he was doing when his fingers dug into my sides.

I screamed and instantly curled into a ball, trying desperately to escape.

"Hey Eli! Shut up!" he mocked as I laughed and begged for him to stop.

After a few more seconds of my begging, Randy finally stopped.

But I didn't move.

Not one bit.

"I hate you." I muttered against the flesh of his hip, where I'd tried to escape his torture.

He chuckled.

"And why is that?"

He ran his fingers lightly along my back.

"You made me pee myself a little."

Instantly, his hand ceased on my back.

"Ew."

"You're telling me?"

I kept my face burrowed, now fully embarrassed.

But instead of a sarcastic remark, or even getting angry, Randy got up.

I shifted enough to be able to peak at what he was doing.

He bent down, and rummaged through his suitcase for a second, then turned back towards me.

I was thankful for the pair of shirts I got to the face.

They snapped me from the little fantasy I was starting on about Randy's gorgeous butt.

"Here. I don't want to sleep with pee-pants."

I narrowed my eyes at him as I sat up.

"Don't worry, I wont look." he turned around and covered his eyes long enough for me to skinny into the bathroom to change yet another article of clothing.

I mean really.

It was sad.

Now, instead of my own comfy sleep clothes, I was stuck in Randy's work out clothes.

That, might I add, were several sizes too big and practically falling off of me.

His shorts were like pants on me.

It was ridiculous.

I kicked the went pants and underwear into the same corner as the wet and sticky t-shirt, and left the bathroom.

Randy had his arms folded behind his head, laying under the covers, and a huge grin on his face.

"What?" I asked, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"That's much better." he muttered.

I cocked a brow.

"You know how much I hate those pants."

I let out a bark of laughter, remembering the first time I busted out the Christmas tree pants, and slipped underneath the blankets.

"Yeah, I think you were expecting something a little more sexy that night, huh?" I laughed.

It was the first time Randy and I actually spent the night together, without the intention of sex, which happened anyways.

So as we went to bed that night, and Randy got to see my actual pajamas, he had been sorely disappointed.

And his face was priceless.

"Yeah, I was! So you can understand why I'm so excited to see you out of them." he smiled his trademark sexy grin.

I laughed, and buried my face in the pillow between my arms.

I was dirt tired.


	22. Spellbound

I awoke with a jolt a few hours later, it was still mostly dark.

There was a hand on my cheek, trying to soothe me.

Another second and I started to feel the angst that had woken me from my slumber.

I wasn't quite sure what I'd dreamt, but it was bad.

Really bad.

I traced my shaky fingers up his velveteen arm, and shoulder, resting against the thick scruff of his cheek.

I leaned up, and placed my lips lightly against his.

I'm not too sure why I did it.

But at that moment I had this insatiable need for that man that I loved so whole-heatedly.

I slicked my tongue across his lips, pleading them to open.

When they did, I felt a rush.

One I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

My fingers that played along the scruff, traced back to his neck, pulling him closer to me.

The heat of his body causing me to need him that much more.

His hand that was on my face slid down to my hip, and under my shirt, to play along my stomach.

And then suddenly, it all stopped.

No more hand singeing along my abdomen.

No more lips against mine.

I let out the tiniest of whimpers before his hand came back to my face, pushing the hair away.

His lips met my forehead.

He kept on petting my hair, lulling me back into a dreamless sleep.


	23. Lucky Break

**Hey all! I hope you're having fun reading! Remember to review! **

**With love,**

**Skee**

I opened my eyes that morning, extremely confused.

One, why was I sticky?

And two, why was I wrapped in Randy's arms?

Another second, and it hit me.

I'd woken up during the night, and had a hot and steamy moment with the man sleeping next to me.

My eyes instantly widened.

Maybe it was just a dream.

Hopefully it was.

I sat there another five minutes, praying like hell that it was just a dream, until Randy started to stir.

He tilted his head down and kissed the top of my head.

"Good morning." he whispered.

I had the sinking feeling that, nothing that happened last night was a dream.

I froze for a second.

"Uh, morning." I mumbled awkwardly, starting to shift away.

Randy just looked at me, also awkwardly.

"Do you not remember last night?" he asked with furrowed brows.

I cocked a brow, playing dumb.

"What happened last night?"

I could see in his eyes, he just died a little.

"You woke up last night in a cold sweat, freaking out." he paused, hoping it would help jog my memory.

That explained the sticky.

I still played dumb, for the sake of my own sanity.

"You kissed me..." he trailed on, realizing it was getting nowhere.

Or so it seemed.

I raised both my brows, pretending to be surprised.

"What?" I almost yelled, shifting back away from his more.

He sighed.

But as if an angle from heaven descended upon us at that moment, my phone rang.

I looked down at the picture of two, toothless, little kids grinning wildly.

I always cracked a grin looking at it.

"It's Jakie."

Randy nodded, knowing full well he wasn't very popular with whom I called my family.

I couldn't get out of that bed fast enough, it was bad enough that last night wasn't a dream, the worst part was that I liked it.

I slid the bar on my phone screen, and thus ensued the awkward small talk that started off every conversation I'd ever had with Jakie.

It was a much needed distraction.

"So what'd you call for?" I finally asked.

I couldn't take much more 'how's the weather' talk.

He sighed.

"It's Bec." he started.

I instantly ceased sniffing the crotch of my Christmas pants, now intently focused on the conversation.

"Did something happen?"

He sighed.

"Not exactly. We're just going through a rough patch, I guess."

By the tone of his voice, it seemed a little more and 'just a rough patch'.

"What could possibly have you two scrapping like dogs?"

There was a weird pause.

"Eli. We're not 'scrapping like dogs'." he paused.

"It was barely even arguing. She just told me the other day that she's going to stay at her mothers house for a while."

I shrugged.

"It was a nice mental image though. So what have you two been arguing about?"

He sighed even louder.

"I don't even know. I thought she was just fooling around at first, then she started to get mad. And it was over the smallest, stupidest things. I think it's just her stressed out."

"Where's the kid?"

"With her, at her mothers."

There was another horrendous pause.

I could feel the bad news coming.

"I also called, because if Bec doesn't come back in a few days, then I will have to go stay with my brother. I can't live here by myself."

It was true.

Jakie was used to having live-in assistance.

If Bec wasn't going to be home, and I couldn't spend forever just hanging out, then he'd have to go.

I sighed, realizing that the house I grew up in would be empty once again.

While I was staying in the custody of the state of New Jersey at age 16, that house remained untouched for two years, until Jakie and his brother eventually moved in.

"That means the house wont be clean!" I grumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked, and he laughed.

"When was it ever clean?"

"Good point." I paused.

"Wait! Where the hell is my dog?"

He chuckled on the other end.

"Hornet is here. Don't worry. I think can handle a dog."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

I silently groaned.

"Hey, Jakie. I got to go. But I'll call you later, alright?"

But before I could spit out the rest of my goodbye, he'd caught me.

"Who's with you?"

"No one. But seriously, I have to go. They gym is calling me!"

And he seemed to let it go after that.

But it was too close for comfort.

After I hung up, I wrenched the door open.

"What?"

"Apparently, Johnny is looking for you. I thought you'd like to know before he came barging in and found you here."

Randy just gave me a matter-of-fact look, covered in a thick layer of snark.

He repressed a grin at my awkward face, and closed the door.


	24. Couldn't Have Said it Better Myself

I'd managed to make it back to my room without Johnny, or anyone else, seeing me.

And with my luck the past few months, that was a surprise.

Apparently, since it was such a great day already, the kid wanted to go for a run.

Undoubtedly, this running date would be a cover for a morning booze check.

I met him down in the lobby, moments after I finished my morning stretches.

He was right, today was rather nice.

Even if it was late February.

And I was thankful for the fresh air.

It gave me plenty of time to clear my head.

Even if Johnny was whining on behind me.

He wasn't used to the crazy running routine that Taker had put me on in Texas, and I made a point to stick to it.

So ten miles in thirty-something degree weather was a bit much.

But I mean really, the kid was from Maine.

He had to be used to the cold by now.

Eventually, we made it to a cafe and got some light breakfast.

"So where were you this morning?" Johnny asked out of the blue.

I popped my head up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I stopped by your room and you didn't answer."

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to answer?" I mumbled through the muffin I'd just devoured in my nervous moment.

He cocked a brow at my obvious question dodge.

"I mean really. Don't you think Kelly is taking the whole, babysitting thing a tad too far?"

In all seriousness, I knew she meant well, but come on.

I was a big girl, not a two-year-old.

Contrary to common belief.

But Johnny just shrugged.

We wrapped up coffee time, and while I ran back to the hotel, Johnny whined.

I actually ended up spending a huge chunk of my day with Johnny.

After he vowed never to go running with me again, we hit the gym, and hit it hard.

It'd been a long time since I had an actually good workout and feeling utterly exhausted felt great.

I had just enough time to shower off the grime before the early lunch time media hour started.

It was Friday after all, someone had to promote tonight's show.

And it was all going great!

I got to spend some well needed, non-awkward, friend time with fellow Diva, Aksana.

Aside from the language barrier, and my hard-headed ignorance, we had a great time.

We were in the middle of a girls-time lunch, when things got very bald, black, and awkward.

Oh.

I mean Teddy Long joined us.

"Eli, you ready for tonight?" my boss asked me during an extremely rare casual lunch, and while his girlfriend was hugging up on him.

I looked up from my phone, where I'd just sent the words; _HELP ME!_ to Johnny.

"What do you mean?"

I felt my phone buzz in my hand.

I glanced down, instantly scowling.

_No way! I get enough of their shit at work. If I'm trying to eat, why would I want to see that?_

Quickly I typed back.

_Fine then. Just find someone else to keep me from mass murderer status!_

"I mean," Teddy started, snapping my attention back to the awkward scene in front of me.

I almost puked.

There they were, holding hands, all smiles, cuddling close, and just being so damn, disgustingly, cute.

Ok.

So maybe it wasn't that bad.

But definitely not something I wanted to see right then.

"You have a qualifying match with Alicia Fox tonight."

I cocked a brow.

"Oh really?"

I tried oh so hard to refrain from throwing in the English accent right there.

But it slipped out.

A lot.

Having lunch with my boss and his girlfriend was weird enough, why did I have to make it worse?

But Teddy just chuckled.

"Yeah really. If you win, you could have a definite shot at the title in a few weeks." he paused and leaned over the table towards me.

"And I know some people in some high places who want to see that happen."

I blinked.

Since when did management want me in a position of power?

I rarely ever listened, never stuck to the script, and liked to punch pretty girls in the face.

I cocked a brow.

But before any words could be said, I heard my name from across the restaurant.

When I turned to look, I instantly smiled.

Who could resist to when Teddy Dibiase enters a room with his million dollar smile on full beam? "Fancy meet you guys here! Mind if I join you?" he asked with that heart warming southern accent.

Of course we said yes.

Or in Teddy's case, 'Yeah Playa!'

And after a few more, less painful, minutes, Teddy Long looked down at his phone.

Then turned to Aksana.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. Duty calls."

Her giddy, super smile faded a tiny bit.

Then he turned to Ted and myself.

"I got to go. It was nice having lunch with you guys."

And he got up to leave.

Aksana shot me the saddest, little Lithuanian face I could ever dream off.

I sighed.

"Aksana, you can go with him. We already did our last media thing for today." I stated casually, but straight faced, and mono toned.

Instantly she shot up, her own smile shinning.

"Thank you so much Eli!"

Her foreign twang took a second to fully compute in my head.

And just in time to get a little 'thanks a bunch' hug from her.

I patted her shoulder lightly, awkwardly, at the suddenness of her attack on my personal space.

But I got over it.

She was too damn cute to get mad at.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You two be safe now." I said without thinking.

The twosome exchanged looks, that made me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

I'd said it jokingly, but now that I thought about it, I'd made things so much worse for myself, and my stomach.

Basically, I'd just told my boss to use a condom while having sex with his girlfriend.

Why couldn't I just think things through first?

The couple said their final goodbyes, and left me and Ted to wrap up lunch.

"So, was having lunch with them really that bad?" Ted asked.

I could hear the smirk cross over his face.

"It was! I was about to find the nearest bridge and jump off of it!"

We laughed about it for a few seconds.

"It's funny, because you and Punk were almost the exact same way, all of the time!"

I knew he meant it jokingly, but I wasn't quite to the place where I could laugh about any of that yet.

Seeing my reaction to his word, he stopped.

"Oh, shit. Eli, I thought it was ok now."

I couldn't help but laugh at his awkward gentlemen backpedal attempt.

"It's ok." I smiled, and quickly changed the subject.

"So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?"

He cracked a grin, sensing that he was forgiven.

"Well, I have one last media segment to do. Want to tag along?"

I laughed.

Adventures with Teddy Dibiase were always fun.

"Hell yeah."


	25. Mistakes Will Be Made

**Hey all! I hope you're all enjoying the plot as much as I am. I'm really happy you are all reviewing so much, thank you! Shit's about to go down, sort of, for our girl. So everyone, Have fun!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

After paying the bill, Teddy and I left for the lunch time radio show he was supposed to do.

They weren't exactly excited to see me, but they weren't about to say no either.

Double the superstars, double the ratings for their show.

So I got to sit in, awkwardly, on the interview; rarely chiming in.

Until the questions shifted towards me.

"So, Eli." the host, whom everyone had been calling Skinner, started, forcing me to turn from the highly invigorating game of Draw My Thing, on my phone.

"Not to be rude, but why are you here? I mean, we weren't expecting you, obviously."

I shrugged.

"I was bored, I guess."

But the radio man didn't look too convinced with my truth.

"Oh ok. I thought it would be for another reason.."

He winked at Teddy, thus making my afternoon the definition of awkward.

Again.

We both laughed.

And denied.

A very, painfully, long twenty minutes passed, and we were able to leave.

But not without some autographs and pictures for their website.

"Good lord. That was worse then lunch." I muttered to Ted as we walked through the doors of the hotel, but our conversation didn't go much of anywhere after that.

Because I was hit by an ambush.

A blond, and angry one.

With his man instincts kicking in, Ted promptly fled the area.

I wished it was that easy for me too.

But my blond haired, blue eyed, baby sitter would have none of that.

"Kelly, what are you doing here?" I asked, genuinely shocked for her being here.

"And why are you giving me death glares?"

She didn't say a word though.

Just turned towards the elevator, and walked away.

"That's ok. It's not like I want an answer anyways..." I muttered, thinking she was too far away to hear.

Wrong-o.

She whipped right around, and glared even worse at me.

She didn't say anything until we were in the elevator, alone.

"What the hell is wrong with you Eli?"

I just gave her the standard, WTF look.

"Johnny told me you weren't in your room last night, or this morning. Where were you?"

I sighed.

That fucking pussy.

He just had to go blabbing to Kelly about my every move.

"Kelly, it's fine. Stop worrying, you're going to get wrinkles."

But her worried face didn't falter.

She seemed to get more mad.

"Better question. Who were you with?"

Dammit.

Why did she have to know me so well?

"It was a goddamn four hour car ride to get here, and I'm not leaving until you answer."

I silently groaned.

And walked with her hot on my heels, to my room.

And she came right on in and made herself at home.

I proceeded to do the usual things, stretching, picking out some clothes to wear for later.

That kind of stuff.

"I'm waiting..."

I all but snapped.

"Oh my god Kelly. Can you drop it? It's nothing to worry about. No one to worry about. Jesus." I muttered the last bit.

I glanced up at her.

Her face stretched out, brows furrowed, jaw dropped.

"What?"

"It was Randy isn't it?"

My heart beat kicked up, and in that pause she got her answer.

"Oh my god it was."

She sounded disgusted.

And with good reason too.

If Randy hadn't been nice to me, then he sure as hell wasn't close to being nice to Kelly.

"What the fuck Eli? You just got over him! Why would you do that? I might as well just drive you to the closest bar, because that's where your going to end up. Again!"

A blunt Kelly was usually a fun Kelly.

But when she's being blunt with you, as I realized then, it wasn't so fun.

I blinked the shock from my face.

"Wow, ok. Thank you for your vote of confidence." I muttered.

"Don't even start with that Eli. You know exactly what I'm talking about. If you get involved with him again, you're going to end up being the same old drunk you were before. Or worse."

And I knew exactly what the 'or worse' portion was.

I'd already been there.

Dead.

Then a new spark of anger flickered on Kelly's face.

"This is also the same guy that tried to punt you in the face last week! And the guy who kicked the shit out of both of us a few months ago! Or do you not remember that?"

I paused, not really knowing what to say.

"Oh my god Eli! Did you forgive him?"

I shrugged.

"Not in so many words..."

"I am so mad at you right now, I don't even know what to do with myself!" she growled.

I didn't even know what to do with her!

But instead of flying off the handle again, she took a deep breath and looked back at me as I sat on the bed for the first time.

"Just promise me you wont do anything." her voice as pleading now.

That's how worried she was about me falling off the wagon.

"Ok." I muttered, but she didn't stop there.

"And don't see him again. Not more than you have to."

This time, her voice had more force to it.

Like she wasn't asking me, but telling me.

This was a new Kelly to me.

Sure she'd been pissed like this at me before, but not to the point of demanding things from me.

And as I looked at her, I realized that maybe she was right.

Maybe by dating Randy again, I would be making a mistake.

I sighed.

"Alright Kelly."


	26. She's Got That Certain Kind of Class

Kelly didn't leave soon after that, she stayed long enough to baby sit me at work.

"Kelly! What are you doing here?" I heard Aksana's voice ring from across the locker room.

I'd just finished suiting up, and had sweet revenge on the brain.

I was aching to get my mitts on Johnny's little girl throat and strangle the life out of him.

But to do that I needed to be away from Kelly, for only a second.

So when Kelly stood up and turned her back to me for that split second, I made my move.

In a matter of seconds I was through the door and down another hall.

She'd figure out I was missing soon, but I'd find Johnny faster.

All I had to to was find Maxine, and Johnny would be lodged halfway up her ass.

A few minutes later, after getting pointed in the right direction, I found just that.

Johnny, acting oh so creepy, with the lovely, and married, Maxine.

I took some silent steps towards him, and my four fingers met the back of his head with a slap.

His head whipped around, angry at first.

"Can't you see I'm a little busy here?"

I scoffed.

And in the moment while he was distracted, Maxine made her escape, dramatic as ever.

"Now look at what you've done.."

"Look at what I've done?" I paused, hearing Kelly yelling from down the hall.

"Look at what you've done!"

I pointed to where Kelly popped out, just seconds later.

Lucky timing.

"How the hell would you know if I wasn't in my room last night?" I whisper yelled.

He just gave me a shrug.

"You're such a creeper." I sighed.

"And didn't I tell you to leave Maxine alone? She'll rip your throat out."

Johnny smiled.

Of course he liked that.

"Plus, she married."

He smiled wider.

"Kind of." he started.

I cocked a brow.

"Your home wrecker friend, once you kicked her ass to the curb, went after another man. A married one."

I raised my brows.

Wow, Kaitlyn just couldn't find her own man could she?

"So you're taking full advantage of the situation?"

"Well, it's not like Bateman is rejecting her advances. And who am I to deny such a woman like Maxine?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, not if you want to keep your head."

By then, Kelly had joined us.

Giving me the same scowl I'd gotten all day.

"Calm down. I came to kill Johnny. Not make a secret rendezvous."

I pulled out my phone from my jacket pocket, I had just enough time to take a run before the show started.

"But now I have to run."

Kelly shot me a glare.

"No, I mean literally. I have to start warming up."

But as I jogged away, I had a sinking suspicion that she wasn't about to leave me alone.

She'd taken the Eli-sitting gig to a whole new level.

It was coming close to curtains up, about fifteen minutes later, I was rounding down my run.

And started some innocent stretching in the hall way.

"Want some help?"

I didn't have to look up to know it was Randy standing in front of me.

I stood up straight, and laughed.

"Nah, I think I'm all set."

He smiled.

"Maybe next time then."

I was about to respond, when Kelly came in like a bat out of hell.

And from where, I had no idea.

Randy and I were standing at least a foot from each other, and apparently, that was too close for Kelly.

She stepped between us, hooked my arm with hers, and with her other hand, pushed against Randy's chest.

He took a step back.

She shot him a big fake smile, and spoke.

"Sorry."

It took all I had not to bust out laughing right then and there.

I looked back at Randy, an utterly confused look on his face.

I just shrugged and walked away with Kelly.

"Don't you think you're being a bit catty?"

She scoffed.

"He deserves it."

I sighed silently.

She would never change her mind, I should have known that.

She walked with me as far as the gorilla, where she made me stay until my match was called.


	27. Free Falling

**Hey all! This one is a bit longer than usual, but I kinda like it. =) So have fun with it, and remember. Review! **

**With love, **

**Skee.**

I couldn't say my match was an easy win, because it wasn't.

Sure, Alicia was a stick like the majority of the other Divas, including myself, were.

But she was damn good at her job.

And only a well placed boot to the jaw could put her down.

But that wasn't what was weighing on my mind right now.

Sleeping or not, was the big thing.

I needed sleep, and the only way I could get it was with Randy.

I don't know why, but I felt a sense of calm while I slept next to him.

Which was ironic because those years I spent dedicated to him,were the most hectic of my life.

But I could understand Kelly's utter disdain for him.

The verbal abuse is what drove me to alcoholism in the first place.

Sure, I'd actually started drinking at age sixteen, but that was usually to take the edge off.

I lived in a house full of drug addicts and crazy people.

Of course there was going to be some edge.

But it wasn't until Randy, that I spent everyday so loaded that pieces are still just blurs.

And I never really broke from that routine.

Not until recently.

It was already well past 4AM so no matter what I decided, I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

Might as well keep busy before I had to catch a flight halfway across the country, to fucking Wyoming.

Granted it wasn't that far of a flight from Portland.

But it was still a flight, and that meant two things.

No sleep.

And no chance of sleep.

No sleep because I've never, truly, slept on planes.

And no chance of sleep because I'd have Johnny stuck up my ass the whole time.

Now that they knew, Kelly had Johnny, not only as alcohol security, but Randy repellant.

And damn did it work.

I rarely even saw Randy when Johnny was around.

A few months ago, I would have loved that.

But now that I actually needed him for something kind of really important, it was beyond annoying.

I groaned and threw the blanket off of my body, heading to my suitcase.

After dressing, and packing the clothes that were strewn across the room, the sun had finally broke over the horizon.

Which was my cue to head outside for that ten mile run I loved so much.

And if I didn't almost get run down by a jackass in a Hummer, then it would have been a much better run.

But either way, it ended with me downing several cups of coffee and on the phone.

"Well, since last time you couldn't stop complaining, I went running without you." I said, answering Johnny's question as to where I was.

"I'm heading back in a few, chillax."

And that was that.

The borderline ten mile run back to the hotel did nothing to the caffeine high I had going.

And that kept me going for at least a few more hours.

Long enough to get on another plane.

The adrenaline rush from there did the job.

And the flight wasn't nearly as long as I thought I was going to be.

We were up and out in barely two hours.

And the entire time I had Johnny glued to my hip.

You'd think I would be used to it by now.

But running off of no sleep, made me more cranky than usual.

"I swear to Jebus, Johnny." I paused, tensing all over.

"If you poke me one more time, I'm seriously going to kill you."

The poor boy made up a new game while we were on the plane.

Obviously knowing I was tired and cranky, he called it 'poke the bear'.

I could see from the corner of my eye, him extending his index finger.

It was just waiting, his finger.

He wasn't touching me, but I knew he was going to.

It was just a matter of when.

It wasn't three seconds later I felt his finger lightly push against my arm.

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"I swear! I didn't mean too! Some jerk just bumped into me!"

I shook my head.

I wasn't in any kind of mood to hear bullshit.

And with one swift elbow, Johnny doubled over.

"Why is it always the nuts?" he whined.

Granted I hadn't hit him too hard.

Just enough to make him think twice before poking me again.

When we left the terminal, and got our shit, there was a car waiting for us.

And since Johnny was still nursing his balls, that left me to drive.

I hopped into the driver's seat of the SUV and just stared at the wheel.

"When was the last time you drove?"

I felt around the lower half, and eventually found the key in the ignition.

I turned it then responded.

"A long time."

"Oh lord help us." I heard Johnny mutter.

I hadn't actually drove a car in years.

Why would I?

I lived in the middle of a city, and needed the exercise anyways.

Plus, most times I'm not allowed to drive.

Seeing as how I have a lead foot and all.

"You might want to buckle up."

And finally, after thirty-five exciting minutes of not knowing whether or not we were going to die, we were at the hotel.

"Now I now why Kelly never lets you drive!"

"I'm sorry! The last time I drove a truck I was fourteen! Plus, that douche bag was going too slow. He deserved me cutting him off."

I glanced at him the moment after I put the SUV into park.

His jaw was dropped to the floor.

"It was an old man and he was going the speed limit!"

I shrugged.

"Thus going too slow. Like I always say, 'if you not being chased, then you're not doing it right'."

"When do you ever say that?"

"As of right now, jackass."

And at that, the ignition was killed, and I was hoping down from the driver's seat.

It was almost ten minutes later, I was checked into my room.

Sure, I'd just had a life or death moment with Johnny.

But not for the reasons he thought.

It wasn't that the old man wasn't going fast enough in reality, but in my mind.

Everything for the past few hours had been starting to slow down.

Making even the simplest things trying my last nerve.

Probably a side effect from not sleeping in over thirty hours.

And I had a match at tonight's house show.

I needed to be focused and in tip-top shape.

But until then I had autograph signings up the wazoo.

I literally had to be in three different places at the same exact time.


	28. It's All Starting to Catch Up

**Hey all! I have some sad/good news. Since it's the end of the semester, I haven't been writing as much as I had hoped. So this will be the last chapter for at least a week. I know. I know. Upsetting right? BUT, since it is the end of the semester, I will be writing and uploading new chapters the SECOND I have them edited. And trust me, they'll be worth the wait.**

**So remember, have fun (summer is just around the corner!).**

**REVIEW!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

"Eli, are you ready?" the tech guy asked me seconds before he played my music.

I barely heard him through the thick fog I was in.

It'd been almost seven hours since I got into town, and I hadn't stopped moving.

I'd gone from signing, to interviews, to photo ops, and somehow made it to the gym for a few minutes.

Not to mention sitting and relaxing for three seconds, and eating.

The past few hours were jammed packed and I had only so much left in me.

I snapped my head up, looking at him, and nodded.

He didn't look too convinced, but continued with the show on schedule.

And before I knew it, I had a sudden burst of adrenaline rushing through my veins.

I jumped around the ring like I'd had a full night's sleep all week.

My match with Brie Bella and that damned twin magic, was bound to do a number on me.

And within a few minutes, it did. I was attempting to jump onto the ropes to do a springboard cross body.

But instead of my feet landing on the second rope, they slipped all over the place.

I bounced off the ropes and slammed my head against the mat and getting some pretty epic whiplash.

What felt like a few seconds later, Brie was pulling hard at my hair, trying to get me to stand.

I wasn't up for more than a second before my face met the canvas again with the Bella Twin's trademark sit-out facebuster.

The rest is just a lot of fuzz.

Somehow I was backstage and had a nice ice pack pressed against the back of my head.

Along with the ensuing headache, my neck, thighs, back, face; everything was on fire.

I was definitely in for a hot shower later.

And oh damn I got it.

After a good hour of pruning in the hot water, I went to bed, extra early.

Or at least that was the plan.

I was mentally and physically exhausted and could barely stand.

But when I rolled up in the covers, I spend hours staring off into the darkness.

I hadn't even noticed that so much time had passed until I saw the sun start to rise from behind the window shades.

Almost eight hours hours had passed while I was laying in bed, not sleeping.

And not in a fun way.

Not at all.

It was starting to piss me off.

I pretty much spent the day like I had the day before.

Running.

Coffee high.

Plane ride.

Media.

More coffee.

Then show time.

But tonight, it was practically useless for me to go.

I was standing with some other superstars, all of whom I'd snapped at in the last few hours in some manner.

They were chatting about tonight's match card, which I was there to look at.

Out of the ten or so names on the list, Eli Strong wasn't any of them.

That ticked me off.

I hated being at a show, and not working.

All I could do was sit there and watch everyone else have fun.

I went to the viewing room, bypassing the locker room, and slouched in a chair.

"Why are you so pouty?"

I glanced up seeing Johnny dressed in ring gear.

That's right.

His name was on the match card.

I grumbled and looked back towards the screen, where Lillian Garcia, beautiful as ever, was starting off the show.

"Oh and grumpy too. Lucky me." he muttered sarcastically and plopped down next to me.

"Is this about the match card tonight?"

"I can't believe that! I've worked so damn hard and Teddy wont even put me on a house show!"

"That might have something to do with the Botch-A-Mania last night."

I shot him a furrowed brow glare.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I messed up, like, once."

He went from smirking to wide-eyed at my words.

"Wow. Pouty, grumpy and delusional. Triple threat."

I gave him a look that was not impressed, and he continued.

"Eli. You fucked up on almost everything."

"What? No."

"Uh yeah. You did. Roundhouse, fail. Spinebuster, fail. Drop kick, fail. Need I continue?"

I grumbled and turned back to the screen.

"Don't get me wrong, you were great in the first minute or so, but then it all went down hill from there."

"Maybe the fact that I haven't slept in three days has something to do with it." I muttered mostly to myself.

But Johnny caught it.

"Well, you have to sleep. Bottom line."

I turned and shot Johnny a cocked brow.

"I heard some suits saying that if this happens again, they'll start booking you on NXT or Superstars instead."

Instantly, I furrowed my brows and dropped my jaw obnoxiously low.

They wouldn't dare downgrade me.

Would they?

"Yeah, and no one wants you on NXT. Hello drama."

I scoffed.

"Ha. Ok. I'm surprised you have a shirt on. If I'm drama, then you have to be King weirdo."

He smiled at the title I'd given him.

"Thus making my point."

"What ever drama queen." he started, standing up. "Do what you got to do cause if you do end up on NXT, then I can't be seen with you."

"And why is that?"

He turned around and shot me a grin.

"Think about what you'd do to my rep."

I laughed and shook my head.

Why was he so weird?

No one knows.

That was the last of Johnny for a little while.

Which left me alone.

At least for the majority of the time I sat there.

AJ made a surprise visit, most likely by mistake seeing as she was clinging to the arm of Daniel Bryan.

Whom had already chewed her up and spat her out once before.

And I only know that because Kelly told me.

Not because I care.

Or anything like that.

But the weird part was, that she didn't even try and make conversation.

And I could completely understand why, I made absolutely no effort in associating with her.

Ever.

But I had to admit, I treated her a hell of a lot better then Bryan did.

Or at least that's what I'd heard.

Apparently this whole thing went down while I was away.

And I'm not sorry about that.

Staying well away from that was a dream come true.

And instead of the twosome leaving me in a pleasant silence, Bryan, standing a few feet from me, watching the screen, spoke

"Eli, it's great to see you back. Isn't that right AJ?"

He didn't bother turning from the TV while he spoke.

AJ looked at me and nodded quickly, flashing a smile.

"Uhhuh. It's good to see you're still a massive tool."

That got him to glance my way.

A grin across his face.

"And that little miss geek squad here is still your arm slave."

Now he started getting grumpy.

I couldn't help be chuckle.

His grumpy was only a fraction of mine right now.

But he stepped up to the plate.

"I will not stand here and let you insult me. Or AJ. She's here because she loves me!"

His face turned into one of a offended squirrel with that beard he had going lately.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't really care. I'm trying to watch something here."

I stated, making the shoo gesture with my hand.

I didn't have to say much other than that to get an extremely offended look from AJ and a storm off by the both of them.

I sighed.

Why must I pick fights with everyone?

"You haven't been making many friends lately, have you?"

I heard that sweet southern accent come from the door way which I'd turned away from.

Instantly, a smile started to round on my lips.

Of course it did.

"I know I can forgive you, but those two will be harder to convince." Ted said, coming to sit next to me.

His arm stretched behind me, on the chair back.

I stayed slouched, like I had been since I sat down earlier.

His words reminded me of this morning.

I was coming back from the early morning run I'd made routine the past two days.

And hopped up on caffeine and going on day three of no sleep, I ran into Ted, and tweaked out on him.

Being sleep deprived for three days made the simplest things hard.

Like using a key card to open a hotel room door.

So the whole scenario ended with me yelling at him because he helped me, and slamming the door in his face.

I sighed.

"Ah, yeah about that." I started.

But dear old Teddy cut me off.

"I've known you long enough to know when you're having a bad day. No need to apologize."

"It's just been a rough couple of days."

I could sense Ted was expecting an elaboration.

"I''m running off of no sleep."

I could faintly hear him make an 'ah' sound.

Like everything was starting to come together now.

"That makes since." he started.

"But you seemed fine last week?" he pondered aloud.

"Because I was. I had a secret weapon."

As much as I loved and trusted dear old Teddy.

The less people that knew about my literal sleeping with Randy escapades, the better.

"Maybe you should start using it again. I don't think I can take anymore of the cranky you." he smiled.

I laughed.

And that was the end of the conversation.

We watched, for the next twenty minutes or so, Johnny get the daylights knocked out of him by Mark Henry.

I had the sinking suspicion he was having a TV debut flashback.

And between the 'oh's and 'ow's Ted and I voiced in the viewing room, I had moments of enlightenment.

Was it just me, or had I just gotten the same advice from two completely different people?

Maybe I should go back to sleeping next to Randy.

Both Ted and Johnny had made it clear that I had to get sleep somehow; for the sake of my job and friendships, despite how little I actually had.

And frankly, sleep sounded great right about now.

I needed little else to convince me to text Randy right then and there.

I looked up from my phone and back to the screen in time to watch Johnny land flat on his back via World's Strongest Slam.

Yup.

Debut flashback indeed.

"Well that's my cue."

I looked up at a now standing Ted, with a cocked brow.

Then grumbled.

Right.

Everyone but me was on the card tonight.

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to go dazzle the good people of St. Louis." he said with a growing smirk.

I too almost smiled.

Almost.

Then I remembered what city we were in.

Fucking St. Louis.

Randy's hometown.

AKA where his wife and child live.

Or should I say, ex-wife?

Either way, it was still extremely awkward.


	29. This Isn't Desperate for Me

I should have been used to being blown off by Randy, especially since we were in St. Louis.

But it still sucked that I got no answer at all.

And all I said was _hey_.

So when I got back to my hotel room, freshly showered, fed and ready for bed, I tossed and turned for a good hour or two.

Or three.

It was weird.

Aside from being ignored, which was usual from Randy, I didn't see him all night.

As of late, he'd made a point to pass me in the hall.

With or without Johnny around.

I had to force myself to not think about him any more that night.

Kelly did have a point, dating Randy was a horrible idea.

I grumbled at all the thoughts in my head, no wonder sleeping was out of the question.

My body may be tired, but my head was running rampant.

I shoved my face into the pillow, trying to force myself to sleep.

I was getting nowhere, when there was a knock on my door.

I groaned and got up, answering it.

"Hey." his smooth, deep voice spoke quietly.

I blinked a few times.

This better not be a damn hallucination.

"Long time no see."

His smirk revealed those razor white teeth of his.

"And do you look like hell or what?"

I scoffed.

"I haven't slept in three days. How else am I supposed to look?"

He chuckled and stepped into my hotel room.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, the angry tone that had become usual the past few days starting to settle in my voice.

"Well first off, I heard you've been having an attitude problem lately."

I cocked a brow at his accusation.

"Ted told me."

At least it wasn't Johnny.

I rolled my eyes.

"And where would you expect me to be?" he smirked, sitting on my bed.

"I don't know. At your house?"

I shrugged sarcastically.

He raised both brows.

"Yeah. The house with my ex-wife in it. That sounds like a smart idea."

His own sarcasm seeping into the conversation.

"Well I don't know where you spend you time! What do you want Randy?"

He kept his brows up, making a cat noise.

"Ted wasn't joking huh?"

I was five seconds from losing it.

And he knew it.

"Alright alright." he started, scooting back on the bed.

"You said it yourself. You haven't slept in three days."

"I'm not in the mood for games Randy. I'm really tired and was trying, before you rudely interrupted, to sleep."

"If you're so tired, why not use your 'secret weapon'?"

He tried to hide his smirk as he laid back, arms behind his head, on the pillow.

I know, I was planning on seeing him tonight anyways.

But now he was just being a cocky bastard.

Which always made me flustered, and he knew it.

I was so tired that I was seeing things, flipping out on people, and literally killing myself, yet my pride wouldn't let me crawl into that bed and fall, almost immediately, to sleep.

I'd promised Kelly I wouldn't.

But I had no other choice.

I sighed and took and few steps towards the bed.

I had no choice.

I was risking everything I worked so hard for by not sleeping.

With a sigh, I slipped under the covers next to a wildly grinning Randy.

I got all comfy, and was about to try and fall asleep again, when Randy got up.

"What the hell are you doing now?" I grumbled, not bothering lifting my head from the crook in my arm.

Before he answered, his hands ripped his shirt over his head.

"Oh ok. Why are you taking your clothes off?"

He scoffed.

"I am not sleeping in jeans." he muttered.

"At least turn around."

Randy just laughed at my disgusted tone, but did what I said.

If I wasn't so dirt tired, I would have laughed too.

Because if I was truly disgusted with Randy stripping, then I wouldn't have watched him do it.

Let alone fantasize about his ass and thighs behind his back.

A few seconds later, I forced my face into the crook of my elbow, mentally chastising myself.

I was already breaking my promise to Kelly, I didn't need to put the final nail in my own coffin.

Randy lifted the blanket and hoped in next to me.

"See anything you like?"

The arrogance seeped out of every word of his.

Instantly I looked up at him, arms folded behind his head like before, jaw dropped and brows furrowed.

"No!" I scoffed, trying so hard to keep from giving anything away.

He chuckled.

"Oh ok."

And he seemed far from convinced.

His smirk got wider the redder my face got.

"Shut up." I muttered, scowling at him and turning over the face the other direction.

He let out another chuckle, but hit the light and left it at that.

Within moments I was sound asleep.

Finally.


	30. I'll Harmonize With You

**Ok. For those of you concerned about where Punk is. DO NOT WORRY. He'll be back, with a "bang". lol. Just enjoy the drama while it lasts, and you won't be disappointed. I promise.**

**With love,**

**Skee.**

My eyes fluttered open a few hours later, revealing the faintest of sunbeams against my hotel room wall.

I didn't have to look to know that Randy was still next to me.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

But even knowing that, I couldn't stop myself from turning to look.

More like stare. Stare at the silhouette of his chest against the rising sun.

The same very chest I spent years waking up next to; the site the same as always.

Randy really hadn't changed at all.

As soon as the thought formed in my mind, I realized that it wasn't exactly true.

Sure, his physical attributes were flawless, just like always.

But, as I recalled the past few weeks, Randy had been nothing but patient.

Despite my outbursts of sexual tension, kissing him whenever the hell I felt like it, he kept his cool and even stopped me from going further.

The old Randy, the one that broke my heart and drove me to alcohol as a means to solve problems, would never have done that.

When the old Randy wanted it, he got it, whether or not I was 100% ok with it.

But not this Randy.

This was a new Randy.

And this new Randy was completely different.

Before I knew it, my hand was reaching out.

Daring to do what I wanted to so bad.

I played through the past few weeks, seeing nothing but goodness from Randy.

Then it snapped into my head.

The first time I saw Randy after I returned to work.

The raw power and aggression that tormented me for years seeped out of every pore on his body.

His hand around my throat, driving the air from my lungs; forcing back the memories I tried so hard to drink away.

Sure, he'd apologized, but he still did it.

Instantly, I threw my hand back.

I took a deep, exacerbated, breath.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Why would I even let the thought come into my head?

Kelly was right, I couldn't be around him anymore.

I had to find a way to sleep without him.

But as I glanced back, I realized one crucial flaw in my logic; I'd loved him.

So much that the idea of being without drove me into a self destructive downward spiral.

Again, my body moved on it's own, sitting up to kneel next this Randy's body.

My fingers finally touched his skin.

His warm, smooth, hand, that was laying on his blanketed stomach.

After a second, my hand shifted up to rest on his chest.

It rising and falling softly.

The instant the pads of my fingers touched the warm skin, Randy stirred.

Of course my fingers were cold.

By the time my hand was fully resting on his chest, Randy was wide awake.

He blinked those cool blue eyes a few times, confused to what the hell I was doing.

Frankly, so was I. He was about to say something, but stopped when I started to lean towards him.

As my lips met his, I could feel the blood rush to my head.

Not a second later, Randy had his hands knuckle deep in my hair, trying to bring me closer.

It didn't really work, seeing that I was already as close as physically possible.

My palms smoothed over his chiseled chest, down the velvet of his inked arms.

In a matter of seconds I was completely lost in the feel of his skin on mine; his lips; his tongue.

It all caused a flood of hot, sweaty, titillating memories into my mind.

As I reveled in the long forgotten feel of his body, Randy sat up.

I could feel his heart beat kick up.

Mine did too.

As our lips moved along each other, one of my hands stayed against his neck, the other played down his skin.

First, his shoulders; inked, broad, and thick.

Then his chest; smooth, hard, and toned.

My fingers fell to his abs.

The dips between them providing a road map of sorts down his torso.

Finally, my fingers were home, along his thigh.

I could feel his blood pumping beneath the skin.

Without thinking, old habits kicking in, I racked my fingers down the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

The nails digging in just enough to make his whole body tense up.

And a second later, I was thrust back to the real world. Randy practically pulled completely from me.

"Stop."

I blinked in utter confusion.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you in the middle of the night."

It was hard to see through the haze of the fever I was now starting to come down from.

"Like you said, you haven't slept in three days, so you're probably delirious. Go back to sleep."

As the words left his mouth, I felt two things.

One, the utter disappointment in his voice.

He so wanted me to be in my right mind, and I knew it.

And the second feeling was one I wasn't used to, especially around Randy.

Safe.

With a crazy dose of anxiety on the side.

But maybe he was right.

I looked at the clock over his shoulder, it reading only a thee hours difference from when Randy had barged through the hotel room door.

Maybe I was just a little delirious?

I blinked again, and plopped my head back onto the pillow.

Within a few moments, I was out.

Yeah.

Randy was probably right.


	31. I'll Give You Some Skin

**I'll Give You Some Skin to Make You Whole Again**

**Well all. The semester is FINALLY over. And might just I say, I did pretty damn good. =) BUT! That just means more fun for us! And by fun, I mean story. And boy to I got a lot written... So sit back, relax, and enjoy this long, mother-fucking, chapter. **

**With love,**

**Skee.**

"Samantha!"

I heard the name yelled through a thin wall.

The whole thing startling me awake.

I blinked the blur from my eyes and checked out the clock.

It'd only been four hours since the last time I looked at it.

"I am not having this conversation with you."

Again I heard the hushed tone, obviously mad.

After another blink, I realized that it was Randy who was yelling on the phone.

And he was in the bathroom?

Ok.

And suddenly, I felt a flood of déjà vu.

Waking up hearing Randy talking to; or yelling at, his wife; or ex-wife. It felt weird.

"Don't you dare threaten me."

Now Randy sounded pissed.

Not usually how the conversations would end.

Quickly I got up, and poked my head into the bathroom.

Leaning against the bare wall was Randy, clad in only his jeans.

A moment later, his eyes shifted over to me, and the direction of his phone conversation changed.

"I have to go."

Then click.

Not even waiting for a response.

"Well that sounded fun..." I trailed on, leaning against the door frame.

Randy let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You have no idea." he muttered, obviously still pissed about it.

"Sorry I woke you up."

He turned his face back towards me.

I just shrugged.

"Eh. It was about time I woke up."

But instead of leaving it at that, I stepped into the bathroom and plopped down on the floor next to where Randy stood.

I patted the floor next to me.

There was a slight smirk on his lips, but somehow he managed to sit next to me in the cramped bathroom.

It was at least five or ten minutes before I said anything.

"So" I paused, looking down at the floor and my pattering fingers.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

I could faintly see Randy tilt his head back, and sigh.

"It was Samantha being a crazy bitch, that's what."

I blinked and snapped my head to look at him.

After a second, he made eye contact and smiled.

Probably at my utterly shocked face.

"Oh come on. Like you never wanted to call her that?" I shrugged at his accusation.

Of course I did.

"I'm just shocked that you're the one who said it. That's all." I muttered, turning my attention, and eyes, back towards my hands on the floor in front of me.

"Well, she is!" he took his own pause.

"She called to talk about Alanna and when I was coming to get her later, then all of a sudden she asks me if I'm with someone."

I turn and cock a brow.

"I was trying not to wake you up."

I make an 'ah' sound, and let him continue.

"So of course I said no, because if I didn't she'd just blow it all out of proportion. She starts yelling about who it's the same girl as before" he paused to chuckle.

"and of course I denied."

Immediately I gave him a sour look.

Who the fuck was he talking about?

"Wait, what girl from before?"

I tried to stay calm, seeing as I had no right to be mad at him.

But dammit I was.

Who was he fucking around with?

Randy just looked down at me, a little confused himself.

"I was talking about you."

Now I was confused.

"How the hell does she know about me?"

At that Randy let out a puff of laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"I forgot to tell you that I told her about us."

Instantly, my jaw dropped.

"What? Why? When?" I stammered out in complete shock.

He'd told his wife about an almost five year long affair, and didn't tell me.

What the fuck?

"Last spring."

I blinked.

Wanting him to elaborate.

It took a second before he noticed my face.

"It was right after she asked for a divorce." he shrugged.

Again, like it was nothing.

"What?"

Again, I was confused.

"So maybe it wasn't the most tactful way I could have handled it. But at that point it didn't really matter."

"Ok. You have to explain to me what the hell happened."

He sighed at my words.

But said anyways.

"We were in a huge fight, and I was already pissed off. She'd been complaining how I'd been a huge dick the past few weeks and said she wanted a divorce. So I said, that's ok. I've been having an affair this whole time anyways." he lightly chuckled as he finished.

"She wasn't too happy after that."

My jaw reformed at it's rightful place after that, dropped.

I blinked.

In utter shock at the lack of tact he'd broken the news.

"Wow. I can't think of anyone who would be happy after that bomb! Randy, that was so blunt! You couldn't soften the blow a little?"

He just shot me a confused look.

Probably because I was almost defending his ex-wife.

"I don't know where you were for five years, but have you ever tried to reason with me while I was mad? It's not a pretty sight."

I took and second, then nodded.

No.

Not it was not.

Within a few moments, it was silence.

"So now it's your turn."

And then it wasn't.

I turned to shoot Randy a cocked brow.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't have a wife to tell about a secret five year affair..." I trailed on.

He laughed.

"I meant that."

His hand came up and his index finger poked the side of my neck.

The same side with the black butterfly.

"That's called a tattoo. I would hope you know what those are."

I smirked smartly, nodding my head.

Randy just gave me an unimpressed look.

"I know what it is. I want to know what it's for." his voice seemed a little shy.

I laughed internally.

Randy shy was a joke.

I mentally mulled around for some words, but Randy beat me to it.

"Ok, I'll put it simply for you." He paused.

"Do you have any tattoos for when we were together, or was that just a one guy deal?" Randy asked almost sheepishly.

"Come on. I'm not an idiot."

Of course he'd found the set of twin butterflies.

I smiled shyly, and pushed up the sleeve of my sweatshirt the tiniest bit.

And there resting on the inside of my left wrist, a phrase that changed me drastically.

"Ok. What is it?"

"It's Latin. And means 'seize the day'."

Randy just gave me a confused look and ran his thumb over the velvet words.

"And how does that relate to us?"

"Well, without this phrase, and the Dead Poets Society in the back of my head, this" I paused, pointing back and forth between the two of us.

"Wouldn't have happened."

There was a faint smile on his lips, then a second later, his thumb smoothed over the velvet skin.

While caressing the ink, Randy accidentally pushed my sweatshirt sleeve down further, exposing the first of the scars along my arm.

I'd done a decent job at keeping them hidden from him, and everyone else.

But I knew I was bound to be found out sooner or later.

Instantly, I pulled my arm away, and the sleeve back up, holding the cuff in my palm.

"What happened there?"

Curiosity and worry laced his voice.

"Nothing." I muttered, looking down at my lap.

Hoping like hell that was the end of the subject.

"Are you sure?" his tone wasn't one that tried to get me to open up.

He sounded bummed.

Bummed that I wouldn't open up?

Who knows.

"Yeah." I mumbled, still keeping my eyes down.

After a second, he replied.

"Ok."

And that was it.

A relief on my part.

After that an uncomfortable silence settled over the scene.

But again, Randy disturbed it.

"Just so you know," his words barely higher then a whisper.

Unusual for him.

I tilted my head up the slightest of bits.

"I've been trying really hard to change."

Slowly, but surely, my eyes turned to look at his; brows fully furrowed.

Where did that come from?

I opened my mouth to ask, but he stopped me.

"I know, I have a bad temper."

I scoffed, agreeing in ten fold.

He continued.

"But I've been trying to not flip out at every little thing any more. Mostly because I've been spending a lot of time with Alanna, but also because I realized I made some pretty big mistakes in my life because I can't keep my cool."

He was about to continue, when I stopped him this time.

"Rand. You don't have to explain that to me. I know you're different. Last night is proof."

I was literally throwing myself at him, yet he refused; just in case I wasn't myself.

Randy just looked at me with astonishment.

"You remember that?"

I let out a sheepish chuckle, and smiled innocently, sinking my head into my shoulders.

I guess it was time to come clean.

"Yeah."

I shrugged.

Now it was Randy's turn to glue his jaw to the floor.

And ask the annoying 'what, why' questions.

"I don't know. I just couldn't stop thinking about the first time the other day-"

But before I could further explain, Randy's voice made me realize that I was saying.

"What do you mean 'the first time'?"

I sighed, mentally kicking myself.

Now I had to find a way to explain this.

Great job Eli.

I opened my mouth, about to spew some painful bullshit, when Randy stopped me.

"And I want the truth."

I sighed again, and tried to mentally articulate the next few things I said.

"The only reason why I lied about not remembering was because I didn't want to get your hopes up."

Ok, so my articulation didn't work as well as I'd hoped.

Or even at all. I was looking back at my fingers making a beat on the floor.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Randy's look.

Confused.

This whole damn conversation was confusing.

Then I saw a little bit of pain.

My heart beat kicked up.

If I told him the truth, he'd leave.

And for some reason, that idea hurt me more then lying.

Before Randy could question my words, I spoke again.

"I'm not the same naïve little girl anymore. I've changed and I don't know if you're going to like-"

Randy cut me off.

Again.

"I know you've changed. That's why I'm trying to change."

I had to look up now.

Look up and see the genuineness of his words on his face.

The vulnerability his words gave off was astonishing.

I'd never seen him so exposed.

My breath stopped.

"I want to be the kind of guy you can be proud of."

His eyes, as clear and blue as ice, adverted mine for only a second.

Then I could see the truth of his words.

He'd said it once before, I always knew when he was lying.

And now he wasn't.

Air finally returned to me, and my heartbeat kicked up again.

I don't know how my hand had gone from the floor to sliding around denim clad thigh.

But I, nor him, really cared.

I could see a moment of shock at my use of his own cue, but Randy wasn't about to ignore it.

My eyes eased closed when I noticed him moving towards me, in anticipation.

And I wasn't disappointed.

Hot against mine, his lips wasted no time at all.

The taste of him forcing all the delirious memories from last night.

The fever starting to burn again.

Randy's hand behind my head pressed our lips closer, the same intensity from last night rolled off of him.

"Eli! You better be fucking awake!"

The sudden voice shook me from the moment, and threw me into a panic.

It was Johnny.

And if Johnny new Randy was here, he'd tell Kelly.

And if he told Kelly, I'd be screwed.

I scrambled to my feet, and cracked the room door open.

"What?" I said, trying to not sound out of breath.

Johnny just gave me a curious look.

Which I promptly ignored.

"Did you forget about our plans today?"

I blinked for a second, and remember the conversation from yesterday morning.

Quickly, I scoffed with a furrowed brow.

"Of course not."

Of course I did.

I barely remembered it now.

But unfortunately, I promised Johnny I would go work out with him today.

I was already starting to regret the decision.

But the past few weeks, I'd been seriously neglecting the gym.

Johnny's look seemed to convey that he knew better then to believe my words.

I sighed.

"Alright. I'll meet you downstairs in ten."

I grumbled at the smirking face of Johnny.

And slammed the door right in it.

When I turned back, I was greeted with a much more pleasant smirk; from Randy, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"I guess that's my cue, huh?"

I groaned.

"Unfortunately."

And after a quick hallway sweep, Randy was dressed and headed out the door.

Leaving me to the mundane activities that made up my mornings.

Then there was a knock at my door.

I groaned.

"I swear, Johnny, if that's you. I'm going to kill yo-"

I stopped when I realized it wasn't Johnny at the door.

"I thought I just got rid of you?" I asked sarcastically; repressing a smirk.

But Randy just grinned that scheming grin of his.

"I realized I forgot something..." he trailed on, inviting himself in.

I was about to ask what, when he pressed me against the wall.

With his body against mine, it was natural to tilt my head up and revel in the sudden feel of his lips.

Not a sensation I'd ever, truly, forgotten.

How could I?

But the whole action only lasted a few seconds, before he pulled away.

"Hm. Much better." he muttered.

His breath hot against my face.

I groaned.

"Why?"

He'd just gotten me all riled up for nothing.

"Why not?" he replied with a teasing smirk.

"I'll see you later."

And with that, he was back on the other side of the hotel room door.

And I was back to getting ready for my full day of training.


	32. Shot Dead, But In a Good Way

Johnny looked down at me with an almost worried look on his face.

"You ok?" I sighed in blissful content.

Ok?

I felt better then ok.

I felt spectacular!

Which was weird since I'd just killed myself in the gym of all gyms.

Running, lifting, even jujitsu and a bit of boxing.

I spent five hours doing it.

And it was the greatest five hours I'd had in a long time.

I laid on the wooden floor of the jujitsu studio, panting so hard it hurt my ribs.

"Can we do that again?"

I smirked at the disgust on his face.

"No! That was the worst!" he complained.

"Why would you want to do that again?"

I shrugged.

"It was fun."

Slowly but surely, I sat up.

Johnny extended his hand and I made it to my feet.

"Well, it's good to know you're feeling better." he stated, resting his arm on my shoulder.

"Loads better." I corrected.

However little sleep I did get last night, it was surely noticeable to the rest of the world.

"Huh, well. To celebrate you're newly found attitude, I'm thinking lunch."

I could hear in his voice that there was a catch.

"I'm sorry, I was waiting for the 'but' part.." I trailed on.

He chuckled.

"Don't worry. It's not bad."

By now we were in the hall where the locker rooms were, and he'd stepped away from me to go change in the men's room.

"Wait. You're not going to tell me?"

He just shrugged with his back turned, and continued into the locker room.

I hated surprises with this burning passion that words couldn't begin to express.

So I showered and changed ridiculously fast, and tried, vainly, to convince him to spill.

Surprisingly, Johnny was pretty stubborn.

He didn't give it up until we were opening the doors to the local steakhouse.

"What are you doing here?" I asked the blond, with the blue eyes and prefect smile, sitting in the booth I stood in front of.

Next to her, another girl, one I hadn't been to friendly with lately.

And opposite them, a man with his own perfect smile, blond, and blue eyes.

"Well, I had the weekend off. And we never really did celebrate your win. And since we're all off to Mexico this weekend, and will be swamped, it seemed only right to gather all your friends and have some fun."

I laughed at Kelly's words.

"It's sad that I only have four friends."

"Hell yeah it is. Now sit. We're all hungry!"

Johnny spared me no feelings, and pushed me into the booth next to Ted.

That left Kelly and AJ sitting on the other end.

I looked up at the tiny brunette, she didn't seem to be upset.

But something didn't sit right.

"Hey, AJ." I started, attracting the attention of the other three parties at the table.

"About the other day.." I trailed on.

She put up her hand.

"It's nothing."

For some reason, her idol brush off got me pissed.

"No. It's not 'nothing'."

I tried to keep it low.

But the passing waitress gave the group a uneasy glance.

I took a deep breath.

Apparently, the sleep I did get last night wasn't quite enough.

And these people just didn't quite get the meaning of step 10 did they?

"It wasn't right for me to take out my problems on you and Daniel."

I took in another breath before I uttered the words that rarely left my lips.

"I'm sorry."

Even Kelly took a second to gather her scattered brains.

AJ just held a bewildered look for another moment, the replied.

"It's ok. Thank you."

It was a bit of an awkward silence after that, but of course, Ted brought us out of it.

"Where the hell is my apology?" he complained playfully, trying to repress the smirk from his face.

"Oh, well I recall you refusing to hear it!" I played back, elbowing him in the side lightly.

"Yeah me too! You almost killed me!" Johnny pipped up, I laughed fully now.

"You don't get one."

Instantly, his jaw dropped.

Obviously, he didn't think that was fair.

"Wow. So did you snap at everyone while I was gone?" Kelly asked.

I mentally mulled over an answer.

"Basically."

"Yeah. Good thing you got your secret weapon back!" Teddy chuckled.

So that's where Randy got it.

I knew it sounded familiar.

I laughed with the rest of them, even AJ joined in.

But I glanced up at Kelly for only a moment.

Her look didn't hold the same lightheartedness everyone else did.

Behind her laughter, there were an air of suspicion.

But I pretended not to notice, and continued with the fun.

I knew there would be a chat coming later.


	33. Point of No Return

Finally, the weekend was over, and we'd landed in the toasty country of Mexico.

But during the past few days I'd started to little feel...

Antsy?

No, more like horny.

Yep.

Horny was a good word for it.

Slowly but, definitely surely, Randy and I were going to end up knocking boots one day soon.

So as I sat on his hotel room bed during the early evening, I had some time to think.

Admittedly, the whole 'just sleeping' with Randy idea hadn't panned out exactly how I'd planned it.

But I was dying here, first from sleep deprivation, then from sex deprivation.

The midnight make out sessions just weren't cutting it anymore.

Granted, they were probably making it worse too.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

The screen reading, 'Blocked'.

"Sorry, Marcus. Not now."

I ignored it, and went back to my thoughts.

Every time I would look at him, Randy would be doing something so simple.

Yet so sexy.

He'd bent down to tie his sneaker this morning at the gym.

I was walking by, heading out to start my own workout.

It took all my might not to pounce right then and there.

And sleeping next to the nearly naked, hot as hell, man every night made things that much harder.

No pun intended.

Plus, every time I was in his room while he showered, he always conveniently forgot his clothes and had to come out in a lonely towel and get them.

Admittedly, that only happened twice, but still.

Every time!

Again, suddenly, my phone rang.

It reading, again, 'Blocked'.

"Ignore."

And back to thinking I was.

I had a few hours to kill before meeting Kelly for my return to Raw after the last few months, so why not pass it rolling around in bed?

There really was no flaw in my logic.

Since our little heart-to-heart in the bathroom last week, Randy and I had been on a different level of understanding with each other.

It was like we were whole new people, in need of exploration.

Mentally and physically.

After thinking about all that, I'd gotten myself to the point where sitting was out of the question.

I'd taken only two or three steps, and my phone went off again.

Again, it was 'Blocked'.

At this point it was just getting annoying.

I grumbled and pressed ignore a third time.

Damn, my brother was persistent.

As I paced in front of the bathroom door, I'd hardly noticed it open, let alone see, clad in a singular towel around the waist, Randy take a step out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, brow cocked, and the tiniest of grins on his lips.

I took in a deep breath, and took the two strides toward him.

He'd gone from slightly amused, to absolutely confused in less than a second.

My hand slid up his chest and around the back of his neck, bringing his lips to my level.

Instantly, his hands were on my hips, toying with the end of my t-shirt.

The next few moments were one hell of a rush.

We'd gone from standing in front of the bathroom door, to around the corner on the bed in, what felt like, a flash.

Randy laid flat on his back, with me straddling his hips, and kissing the hell out of his face.

Eventually, we had to come up for air. I shifted my lips downward, and started kissing my way around his neck.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he rasped in my ear, all the while, his hands rubbing my thighs over my jeans.

I moaned in response, and lightly raked my teeth over a spot at the base of his neck.

Just the way he'd always liked it.

He groaned and I felt his hands flex, and slid back up to my shirt.

I grabbed it from him, now sitting up, and ripped it over my head.

His abs flexed against my hands as he sat up, his lips singeing across my chest.

His skilled fingers, which I had almost forgotten about, made my bra fly off next.

His hands instantly caressing the soft mounds, kissing them ever so gently.

And for a forth time, my phone rang.

And a the worst time too.

I groaned, and contemplated just throwing it to the floor.

But the screen read Kelly, and if I didn't answer she'd come looking for me.

Randy leaned his head back, looking at me.

I showed him the phone, with annoyance all over my face.

"Answer it." he sighed.

So I did.

"What Kelly?"

As I spoke the words, a jolt of surprise filtered into my tone.

I glanced down at Randy, seeing him continuing his torture on my breasts, nipping at the highly sensitive skin.

"Where have you been all day?" she asked, a sharp tone to her voice.

I rested my elbows on Randy's shoulders, and with my free hand, running my palm over his prickly, short hair.

It took all my might not to yelp as he shifted his hips slightly, and brushed his growing erection against just the right spot on my jeans.

I took a much needed deep breath, and spoke.

"Around."

"Where's 'around'?"

Now she was just giving me attitude.

"You're at Randy's aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, both from her prying tendencies and from the finger Randy was lightly gliding on the middle seem of the denim I wore.

"Oh my god you are! I can't believe you! You promised me you wouldn't! Twice!" she complained.

I really didn't have the patience for this.

"Seriously Kelly. What do you want? I'm ten seconds from hanging up on you."

Randy chuckled very lightly against the delicate flesh he still tortured.

"I need to talk to you."

"And why," I paused, clenching my jaw and every muscle in my body.

Again Randy glided his index finger along the seem, but this time, with a little more pressure.

"Is that?"

"It's not something I want to say over the phone. But it's really important Eli. I need you to promise me you'll come talk to me."

I groaned.

This time because of Kelly.

"Alright. When?"

"Now." she replied without pause.

"What? Why can't it wait twenty minutes?"

"Because I promised Bec. And unlike you Eli, I keep my promises."

Oh.

Low blow.

I sighed.

"Ok. I'll be right there." I mumbled.

Randy let out a sigh, and flopped onto his back, arms spread wide, in defeat.

After I hung up, he spoke.

"After all these years, I still can't win against her, huh?" he grumbled.

I just smiled.

"Rain check?"

He nodded as I leaned down and lightly brushed my lips with his.

I crawled off of him and started putting my clothes back on.

"And what exactly do you suggest I do with this, until then?" he asked, still flat on his back, and motioning towards the towel.

I smirked.

"I don't know. Put it in the fridge and save it for later."

He laughed sarcastically.

"Really, you know you're hilarious right?"

I laughed, grabbed my jacket, and opened the door.

"Obviously."

And at that I was back in the real world.

And the real world sucked.


	34. Break the Spell

**Hey all! This is where the drama picks up! Eli is in store for some harsh realities! And I hope you'll all have fun with it! Cause I know I did! Remember, review!**

**With love,**

**Skee. **

"Ok, Kelly. I'm here. What was so goddamn important?"

She held the door open until I passed through, and it made a slam as it closed.

Ok.

So I could understand why she was mad at me.

I promised her I wouldn't spend any more time with Randy.

Obviously, I'd broken that promise.

But it wasn't like I didn't try.

"First off, how could you do that? You promised me Eli!"

I sighed.

I'd had it up to here with this shit.

I'm a fucking grown up.

I can look out for myself.

"Why? Why do you care so goddamn much? It's not your life, it's mine!"

It took all I had to keep my cool, if not for a few more seconds.

"No, you're right. It's no my life you're fucking with. But what about Punk?"

That pushed the over boil button.

"Kelly. I don't know how to tell you this, since I've said it a million times before. I can't do anything if he doesn't want me! If he doesn't love me then there's no point in chasing him! He's just going to end up hating me, and I'll never be happy! But at least with Randy I have a chance!"

I heard a growl come from her.

If I wasn't so mad, I would have laughed.

"I swear to god, I'm never doing this again!"

I cocked a brow.

It wasn't exactly the response I was expecting.

"What are you talking about?"

"Keeping secrets! The one fucking time I do, it blows up right in my face!" she sighed and looked at my utterly confused face.

We'd gone from yelling about who's business it was who I was with, now we were talking about secrets.

What the fuck?

"You remember when you told me how Punk didn't go see you after the Elimination Chamber?"

I nodded.

Basically, him not seeing me was a big old wake up call.

Obviously, I'd done something bad enough for him to break the years of tradition he'd started.

"Well, he did. Or he was on his way to."

My brows were completely furrowed now.

"I was on my way too and I saw him standing outside of the door. We were chit chatting for a minute, then he asked me why'd you kissed him. Apparently, he thought you'd tell me the actual reason. So I told him what you told me, and he got kind of upset. He made me swear not to tell you he was there, and left. He's been a lost puppy ever since."

I groaned.

"Great. Now he's probably heard all sorts of rumors about me and hates me."

It was silent for a moment.

"Wow, Eli. You have to be the densest person on the planet." she paused to give me a disappointed look.

"He still loves you. He just thinks you don't."

"What? Is he an idiot?" I said without thinking about it.

"You both are." Kelly said straight faced.

"Holy crap. I have to go talk to him." I said, standing.

But Kelly stopped me.

"Wait! That's not what I wanted to talk to you about! And no, this can't wait."

I sighed and plopped my ass back on her bed.

It was a few seconds before she said anything.

Her face dead serious.

And I got this unshakable feel that something was wrong.

Horribly wrong. All previous thoughts of annoyance, and even Punk, were gone from my mind.

All I could think about was what was so important that my best friend, a usually happy girl, was so emotionally stricken.

"It's Jake."

She looked up, utter desperation in her eyes.

Her whole being screamed it.

"He was hit by a car while crossing the street early this morning."

My breathing stopped.

"He's in a coma."

And now, so did my heart.

I didn't even know what to feel.

Or to think.

All I could do for a second was stare.

Stare at Kelly and hope like hell this was some sort of sick payback for breaking my promise to her.

But as I watched her expression change, I could literally see her heartbreaking.

Oh my god.

So this wasn't a joke.

This was real.

That's when it hit me, like a freight train.

"What? No. Jakie wouldn't have left the house without his cane. He knows that people are stupid."

I shook my head.

Somehow the irrational thought of denying it ever happening, was the rational thing to do.

But Kelly stayed somber.

I could deny it all I wanted, but she was telling me the truth.

"Eli, I'm sorry." she said softly, placing a hand on my arm.

I barely noticed it.

I was too focused on the walls, and them closing in on me.

My heart beat kicked up.

I couldn't sit there any longer.

I had to move.

Go somewhere.

Anywhere but here.

"Where are you going?" she asked when I stood and walked towards the door.

I shrugged, and left without a word.

With in ten minutes I was out in the hot Mexican sun.

The only non-destructive way I knew to deal with things, was running.

So for the next hour or so that's all I did.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

Jakie might as well have been my brother.

He'd been there for me when I needed him most, and now it was my turn.

I dialed Bec's number and waited a few seconds before she picked up.

"Eli. Thank god you called. Have you talked to Kelly yet?"

I took a breath.

I could tell she was distraught.

So the worst was yet to pass.

"Yeah. She told me what happened."

On the other end, I heard a sob.

"Eli. I don't know what to do. I'm so scared that I'll lose him. I can't do this by myself."

Again, she sobbed, tugging at my heartstrings.

And in that moment, I made a hasty decision.

"I'm coming home."

I blinked, wondering if I'd actually said that.

"What? Eli you can't. What about work?"

I shook my head.

Like she could actually see it.

"You guys are the closest thing I have to family. Don't worry about my work. Family is more important."

A few minutes later we hung up.

I needed to talk to Teddy and book a flight, as soon as possible.

I had no time for distractions.


	35. I Swear to God I'll Make You Mine Again

**He's bacckkk...**

I'd just gotten off the phone with Teddy, explaining there was a family emergency and that I was needed back in Jersey tonight.

Obviously, he wasn't happy about letting me go.

But I was leaving either way.

He'd given me until Thursday, then I was needed back here for Friday's Smackdown.

That was a reasonable deal, seeing as he had to rearrange tonight's Diva's match.

I was walking through the hotel's front doors, putting the finishing touches on my flight plan.

One way from Mexico City, Mexico to Newark, New Jersey.

Take off was in two hours.

That left me just enough time to pack and leave.

I paused to set the alarm on my phone for one hour, and when I looked up I was hit with a whole waterfall of emotion.

Anxiety started to kick in, looking at those hazel eyes.

He hadn't quite noticed me yet.

I couldn't deal with Jakie, and him in the same day.

I needed to leave.

Now.

Deal with one roller coaster at a time.

But my feet wouldn't move, not until he was staring right at me.

A worried look on his face.

I could feel the pressure building, the burn in my eyes too much to bare.

He started taking steps towards me.

Before he could get close enough to see the red of my eyes, or even the teary build up, I ran.

It was only a few strides until I could yank open the stairs' door, and I took those two at a time.

But after spending the last hour running, and being emotional, I had barely anything left in the tank.

I had to stop and breathe.

I prayed like hell for Punk not to have followed.

But as I heard his mumbled voice echo through the stairwell, I knew I wasn't that lucky.

I groaned, and trekked on.

There were only three more floors until mine.

I faintly heard him yell my name, it was nothing compared to the pounding of my heart in my ears.

And with the cement walls, I had no idea how close he was.

Suddenly, I felt a hand grab my wrist.

"Dammit Eli. I said stop." he too, panting.

I couldn't stand any longer, the emotions were just too strong for me.

I plopped down right in the middle of the cement staircase.

Punk let go of me, probably shocked to see me so rattled.

I brought my now free hand, with the other one, to my face.

A second later, Punk was next to me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" his voice, unlike before, was gentle.

His hand stroked my hair trying, vainly, to calm me.

I let out a choked up sob.

Finally, it all started coming out.

Everything that happened since we were forced apart in December; almost having sex with Randy; being suspended; almost dying; the depression and anxiety; cutting myself; not sleeping; just sleeping with Randy; waking up and shoving my tongue down Randy's throat, more then once; almost having sex with Randy again; Jakie's accident.

All of that came out in an hours worth of sobs and tears.

"And-the-worst-part-was-that-no-one-would-sit-with-me-on-the-planes-and-I-was-so-scared!"

Each word came out in its own, psychotic, gasp for air.

I faintly heard a puff of laughter echo through the stairwell.

Of course the most obnoxious man in the WWE, or better, the planet, though it was funny.

"I'm-serious!"

My arms flailed, and my sobbing increasing dramatically.

I half expected Punk to just up and leave at that point; I knew I would.

I was a grown, twenty-six year-old women, crying hysterically in a hotel stairwell.

Why would anyone stick around for that?

But he just sat with me, soothing my sobs back into coherent Human.

It was nice, sitting with him again in a comfortable silence.

I enjoyed it while it lasted.

My phone alarm went off.

I had an hour until my plane left.

I sniffled a few times, and wiped my face free of any evidence of tears, then spoke calmly.

"I have to go. My plane leaves in an hour." he nodded and stood with me.

"Is Kelly going with you?"

I shook my head.

"She's got a lot going on here."

"You can't go alone, Eli."

I sighed.

"Well, I can't ask anyone to leave with me."

I turned without looking at him.

And started to climb the stairs towards my room.

Only one floor left this time.

"I'll go with you." he muttered from behind me.

I stopped and turned around.

His face dead serious.

I shook my head again.

"You can't. You have Raw tonight."

"I don't care. I'm not going to leave you alone. Not again."

Despite his determined face, I stood my ground.

"No Punk. You're not going with me. Triple H will kill you."

He sighed, realizing he couldn't win.

"Fine. I'll leave after."

I opened my mouth to object, but Punk cut me off.

"And don't even try to talk me out of it. I'm going. End of subject."

I sighed.

Now I was the one who wasn't going to win.

But instead of responding, I turned and started walking to my room again.

"Eli, wait."

I stopped again.

If it wasn't Punk, I'd be pissed by now.

"I need you to promise me something." he said, taking a big step towards me.

"Promise me you wont do anything until I get there."

I didn't look in his eyes, but nodded.

"Eli, I'm serious."

His hands grabbed my shoulders, holding on tight.

"Promise me."

This time I had no choice but to look at them.

See the intensity behind the cool, hazel front.

"I promise."

My mutter was almost a yell in the silent stairwell.

But Punk's phone ringing scared the life out of both of us.

After a breath, he let go of me and answered it.

While he was grumbling on the phone, I took a few slow steps back, then up the stairs, leaving Punk alone in the stairwell.


	36. Rescue Me

**Rescue Me In the Middle of My Darkest Hour**

After a physical and mental meltdown on the four hour plane ride here, I was so glad to be home.

And by physical meltdown I mean getting so out of hand that an off duty, Jersey cop coming home from vacation with his wife had to restrain me before I broke the seat in front of me from kicking it so hard, so many times.

And by mental meltdown, I mean screaming to the whole plane about how God doesn't really love anyone and just wants us all to suffer.

When the plane landed, and the cop dared to let go of me, I had to be escorted out of the terminal and to a cab by airport security.

But when I actually walked through the threshold of my house just after midnight, I realized it was empty.

And all the joy I felt to be home was gone.

I'd been so exhausted all day, but the only place I could think about being right then was in the sweet silence and constructive order of my basement.

I had to stay calm.

Stay far away from any temptation.

And keep myself preoccupied.

As I stepped off of the bottom step, I took in my keep-calm options.

After definitively ruling out a workout session, there was only one thing left to do.

And it sat in the back corner of the basement, untouched for years.

I went over, and sat on the old bench, it creaking ever so slightly at the added weight.

The dark mahogany panel in front of me, protecting the 200-plus stings beneath, was smooth.

I lifted the fall, exposing the cool ivory beneath it.

I closed my eyes a took a breath, pressing on the keys ever so slightly.

A whole childhood worth of memories flashing back in that moment.

Instantly, I furrowed my brows.

Almost disgusted with the sound uttered by the instrument.

"Well at least we know no one's touched it.." I muttered to myself, sighing.

Tuning this thing could take all night, I realized.

It was perfect.

It would keep my mind and hands occupied for a good while.

After convincing myself it was a great idea, and not just a headache waiting to happen, I stood and lifted the bench seat.

Inside the hidden compartment of the seat, were several sheets of music.

But all of that hid what was at the bottom.

A black zippered case.

Inside; the standard tools for tuning a piano.

After spending the last three or so hours tuning the damn contraption by ear, I was thoroughly pissed off, and equally exhausted.

Not to mention completely distracted.

I played some easy chords, finally deciding it was tuned enough to play now.

I put the front panel back on, closed the dust covered top, and planted my ass back on the old bench seat.

At first, I was just playing around, pressing the keys in random.

Then I started channeling the seven year-old that used to spend every Sunday, dawn til dusk, in this exact seat.

And somehow, my fingers moved to the one song my mother spent years drilling into my thick skull.

Soon the entire concrete basement was echoing the sonata.

But I didn't get to play it long.

I faintly heard the door creak open, and feet on the stairs.

Quickly I changed the song; Beethoven's fifth.

I heard a chuckle.

"I don't know whether to be shocked or offended." Punk asked, stepping closer towards me as he spoke.

I cracked a smile.

"Since when do you play the piano? I feel like that's something you'd need finesse for. Something you're seriously lacking."

"Thanks, I guess?" I muttered as he stepped closer.

It was like nothing had happened.

Like the last two months were just part of a horrible dream.

But I knew it happened.

The utter fear I felt fluttering in my chest as Punk came to sit next to me, screamed it.

It took all I had not to curl into the fetal position, because of the anxiety.

And whenever anxiety lurked around, depression wasn't too far behind.

But instead of playing right into that hand, I stayed focused on the keys below my fingers.

It was a hard feat, with Punk watching my every move.

And the silence underneath the music was painful in itself.

But I couldn't break it.

I didn't dare to.

A few moments later I all but jumped out of my skin at the feel of Punk's head on my shoulder, as my hands pushed with a sickening ease.

I couldn't see his face, but I had a sinking suspicion that he was falling asleep to the deep lull for the piano.

I was almost happy because of it.

The overwhelming, and completely irrational, terror inside me seemed to calm knowing that he would be sound asleep in a matter of minutes.

I slowed the tempo just by a hair, hoping to soothe him deeper into slumber.

Unfortunately, the tempo, and volume, had to be picked up for the second movement.

Other than a quick muscle tensing, he remained asleep.

I continued with the short movement, only to realize that the third, and final, was twice as loud.

Usually, it was my favorite part, but now I was dreading it.

So as the two minute, middle part, came to a close, I prayed he'd stay asleep a little longer.

There was a quick, millisecond pause, then I slammed my fingers on the keys.

Like lighting, Punk's head snapped up and my fingers sped down the length of the upright.

That irrational fear started to set in again as his eyes followed my seemingly blurred digits.

I could feel his stare burn through my fingers.

It was all I could think about for the next second.

And the lapse in my focus on the music forced back all that I was fighting back.

Jakie; hospitalization.

Randy; his skin against mine.

Punk; next to me.

And now; the burning ache in my throat for the sweet spice of my favorite poison.

The music was lost to me now, my hands numb and stupid.

Finally, I just gave up.

The movement wasn't even half through, and I slammed the keys; forcing a stop.

Punk didn't seem to phased by the suddenness of my rewrite.

Just by the intensity of it.

I tried to keep my ease, but the mental overflow, and the epic fail to keep the sonata alive, had me pissed right off.

With a quick flick of the wrist, the fall slammed down; the sound bouncing off the thick walls.

That seemed to phase Punk.

Seeing as his brows furrowed in concern.

I sighed, rubbing my own brow.

I just couldn't win today, could I?

And even in my fit, my body, and the universe, betrayed me.

Sort of.

There was a thick, and blatantly audible rumble from my stomach.

Then a muttered chuckle from next to me.

"Come on. I'll make us something to eat."

At that, I furrowed my brows in a concern of my own.

"And by food I mean sandwiches. Plus," he paused with a scrunched up noise.

"You need to shower. You smell like musty old basement, and three day old gym socks."

I blinked, worried if I really did stink that bad.

Nervously, I lifted my arm a tiny bit, and took a short sniff.

Oh yeah I smelt like hell.


	37. Call It a Curse or Just Call Me Blessed

**Hey all! Just a reminder, my story is for funsies! And yes, serious things happen, and I might not get them right. But isn't that the glory of creative writing? Have fun with the next few chapters and review the shit out of them!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

The shower was off.

My hair, fully soaked, dripped onto my cotton clad shoulders.

The gray sweatshirt I wore daily doubled as a pajama shirt.

I was rarely without it.

It was a kind of safety blanket for me.

But now, I felt anything but safe and sound.

The familiar sense of chaos was starting to settle in my head.

Yes, my best friend was in the hospital.

Yes, I wanted my ex, bad.

Yes, my more recent ex was downstairs and I want him too.

But I just didn't have the balls to say so.

But that wasn't even the worse part.

After these few weeks, I'd actually thought had a hold on the live-in pine for alcohol in my head.

Just thinking the word was enough to ignite the tingling underneath my skin.

The insatiable burn.

It would never really go away, not until I was dead.

The force of the ache crawling through me was plenty to get the razor blade in my grasp.

Even more than enough to make my hand push the blade against my flesh.

It was the worst sound I'd ever heard, the ripping of my own skin.

Even though the sound alone was enough to make me puke, the pain was barely an after thought.

And was far out weighed by the fire that could only be smothered by my favorite, worst enemy.

Again, I tried.

The sound almost unbearable, but the release just as dull.

Why was it not working?

I started to panic.

My breathing quickened to the point of gasping.

In a complete moment of desperation, I pushed harder, deeper, into my skin.

The disgusting noise was almost worth the brief moment of freedom.

Freedom from my own hellish prison.

But it was brief, very brief.

All I needed was a little longer.

Just another millisecond of bliss.

Fully convinced it was the only way, I tried once more.

And as the blade tore through my arm, I could feel it.

So close.

The sweet taste of freedom.

But so far.

I still wasn't there.

It was so close it hurt.

Harder, I pressed.

The beating in my chest was so fast; when I finally reached it, for a moment, it stopped.

My eyes, squeezed shut, relaxed some.

In another breath, I was feeling tired.

My heartbeat calmed, and I dared let go of reality.

Despite the hot wetness that laced my finger tips.


	38. For You Are With Me, My Shepard

**Hey all! I just wanted to make sure you're all having fun reading the story! Now that Punk is back, a lot of you must be excited! Hehe. So with this next chapter, I just want to say that, I had a lot of fun with it and I want you to too. I hope it's not confusing for some of you! But review your thoughts either way!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

"Eli, honey! Wake up! You're going to be late for work!"

A woman's voice spoke to me.

Breaking me from my slumber.

My eyes fluttered open, seeing my mother sitting at my bedside.

The sun shining through the soft colored curtains on my windows.

Her hand rested on my shoulder, it colder then usual, and a smile on her lips.

Slowly, I started to sit up.

For some reason, I felt like I should have felt achy; from years of wear and tear.

But I didn't.

I looked back towards my mother, her smile still there.

I felt like I should be in trouble or something.

Though I knew it false; I felt her keeping that smile was almost a forced action.

But with loving words, she left me to dress; closing the door behind her.

First thing was first, I had to pee.

And as I sat there, on the toilet, I looked down at my arms.

Scrawny, white, and bare.

Nothing made a permanent home on my soft skin.

Even though I had some nice silky pajamas on, I felt utterly naked.

I'd finished my business, and stepped to the skin and mirror.

A quick glance at myself prompted a double take.

My shoulders, both the same as my arms.

White and bare, with no trace of scars.

My neck too.

My skin as a whole was prefect and unmarked.

Soon, I was dressed in the everyday; business suit and heels.

Even though it was just that, the everyday attire, I felt stiff.

Like every step might be the one to cause me to tumble to the ground.

Down the stairs; I said goodbye to my baby sister.

My father, on the couch reading the morning paper, yelled his goodbye in a mono tone.

"Oh, sweety! Marcus wanted me to remind you about your stuff at his apartment."

My mother used the pet name as I opened the front door.

It was a twenty minute drive to the twelve story office building I worked out of.

Stepping through the spinning glass door, I was greeted by a loving smile.

Instantly, I smiled back.

The man approached me, short dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and stubble that he probably forgot to shave off this morning.

His lips came to mine lightly.

The chill of his flesh sent a shiver down my spine.

While we walked to the elevator, I caught a glimpse of his left hand.

"Oh, babe. The guys forced me to go out last night. Don't worry, I was the driver. You know I don't drink."

He seemed almost sheepish at his confession of the previous night.

But I couldn't have cared less.

I was too enthralled by the tiny red box with a rocket ship inside it, on the back of his hand.

For some reason, it looked right being there.

A few seconds later, the silver doors opened, and we were greeted by another man.

"Hey, Phil. About tonight, I can't make it. The boss has me backed up on paper work and it all needs to be done tonight."

I heard my boyfriend, Phil, groan.

"Alright man. But what am I supposed to do with this front row ticket now?"

"Dude, the WWE is fake. Who cares?"

Before thinking at all, I spoke.

"Since when do you like wrestling, Eli?"

I shrugged.

Half hitting myself for saying anything at all.

But my name, the word 'wrestling' and the WWE, all in one sentence sounded perfect.

Hours later, I was waiting patiently for the wrestling show to start; sitting so close to the barricade I could rest my arms on it.

I felt weird being here.

I had no idea what was going on.

Who was in action tonight.

Or if they actually called it wrestling anymore.

Despite all that, all the chaos put me at ease.

Then the announcer spoke, starting the show.

"This first match is a mixed-tag team match."

The crowd buzzed with excitement.

"Introducing first, Kelly Kelly, and Dolph Ziggler!"

Some music started, and the bleach blond twosome came into view.

Once they were in the ring, another song started.

"Their opponents, approaching the ring, Kaitlyn and CM Punk!"

My heartbeat kicked up at the second name called.

It was weird.

I had no idea who these people were.

Why was I so excited to see this CM Punk guy?

I could faintly hear Phil yelling next to me.

When CM Punk and Kaitlyn came into view, together, I almost screamed.

My fists balled in my lap.

It was wrong, seeing them together.

Especially, when the match started, and he kissed her cheek.

I almost puked.

During the match, I couldn't help but laugh every time Kaitlyn got hit.

For some reason, it felt nice seeing Kelly Kelly kick the shit out of her.

Kaitlyn tagged in CM Punk; forcing Kelly Kelly to tag Dolph Ziggler.

And somehow, Dolph Ziggler got the drop on CM Punk first.

After being thrown around the ring for a few minutes, CM Punk rolled out of the ring to right in front of me.

He weakly pulled himself half onto the barricade, his arm only an inch from touching my leg.

I could see Dolph Ziggler coming up from behind, when suddenly he slowed to a snail's pace.

Everything did.

Everything but CM Punk.

His beautiful hazel eyes, behind squinted lids, burned into me.

His mouth opened; his words coming out as a plea.

"Eli, don't leave me."

Instantly, there was a stinging in my eyes.

In seconds, I could barely see past the wall of tears.

My hand absentmindedly, went to my neck.

My eyes still on CM Punk, his too seeming moments from tears.

I knew nothing was engrained in the skin of my neck, but the outline I drew with my finger made it seem like there needed to be something.

Slowly, CM Punk raised his hand, extending it for me to take.

My racing heartbeat mellowed out.

Without thinking, I moved my hand from my neck, and gently gasped his.

It so warm, so right, against my cool skin.

My eyes shut.


	39. Deliver Us From Evil

I could still feel a warmth wrapped around my hand.

And as my eyes eased open, I turned slightly to see Punk.

His head was down on the mattress, his fingers holding mine lightly.

He stayed.

The thought brought a smile to my face.

I carefully slipped my hand out from around his, and stroked his sleeping head.

It was late when he arrived last night, almost 4AM.

That was after a full day of working and me rudely waking him via piano earlier.

Of course he was tired.

In the back of my head, I faintly noticed the dull beeping at my bedside.

It all too familiar.

Then our surroundings set in.

We were in the hospital.

Why?

My hand stopped its petting, but stayed on the back of his head, as I inspected the IV in my hand.

Ok, I was in the hospital.

For what?

I flipped through the possibilities.

But out of all the things that could have happened, one stuck with me.

Anxiety started slipping into my thoughts; my breathing quickened.

Had I lost the fight?

Did I drink?

Why couldn't I remember?

I was so lost in panic that only the grumbling of a waking Punk could focus me back on the real world.

But I couldn't quite shake the unease from my features, so when he lifted his head, it was obvious something was up.

"You're awake." he sighed.

The utter relief in his voice tugged at my heart.

He was worried.

I hated making people worry.

"What's wrong?"

I knew he'd see through my facade.

I shrugged, and caught a glimpse of his eyes.

Puffy, and red.

With furrowed brows, I slid my hand from now resting on his shoulder up to his face.

Lightly brushing my thumb under his eye.

"Maybe I should ask you that?" I muttered.

He just smiled as his face turned red.

In turn, making me smile.

But he didn't answer.

It was a comfortable pause.

And it let my panic come back.

"What happened?"

Punk's brows furrowed at my question.

"You don't remember?"

I shook my head no.

All I could remember was the weird ass dream I just had.

And showering before that.

Punk's face seemed worried.

His hand came to mine on his cheek, and brought it to his lips for a moment.

With a sigh, he answered my question.

"The doctor said you cut yourself."

I blinked.

That explained the bandage on my forearm.

"What happened?"

His words were just a whisper.

But whispers enough to make the missing moments flash back.

The pain.

The weakness.

The full on burn.

Just thinking of it now started to ignite my whiskey driven thirst.

The squeeze of Punk's hand to mine snapped me back.

His brows were still furrowed.

His face more so curious then worried now.

I opened my mouth and all that came out was a bunch of gibberish.

How the hell was I supposed to express to him exactly how horrible I was feeling?

I took a breath, seeing his now confused look, and thought of some almost accurate words to say.

Then, the most annoying thing happened.

My phone rang.

And scared the crap out of both of us.

Instantly I was confused.

I left my phone in the bathroom.

How the hell was it here?

"That's ok. I don't feel gay at all." Punk joked, noting the Backstreet Boys ringtone.

I furrowed my brows as Punk pulled the bar from his jacket pocket, answering it.

I could hear the deep voice bark orders from the other end.

With horrified eyes, Punk handed me the phone.

I had an idea of who it could be and if I was right, things were about to get annoying.

I placed the phone against my ear, and spoke.

"Eli! What is this I hear about you being in the hospital again?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned.

Why does everyone know everything about me?

"Pops, I'm fine. I just had a little accident, that's all."

The silence on the other end didn't seem too convinced.

But there was a sigh anyways.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

I could tell there was a deeper meaning to his concerned words.

I sighed and wondered the same thing.

"I should be."

"Good. Because I lost three hours of good sleep because of you. I'm going back to bed."

I couldn't help but laugh at the change of subject.

I knew it was just Taker trying to lighten the mood.

But it was just weird coming from him.

And at that, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

Leaving it just me and Punk, again.

"So, rat. Who else did you call?"

I narrowed my eyes at his deer-in-headlights face.

He put his hands up in defense.

"I didn't really have a choice, he called you like five times!"

But his face fell a little, and his hands came down.

"It was the only reason why I went upstairs in the first place."

"Hey." I started.

My hand finding it's way back to his.

"None of this is your fault. Actually, if you think about it, you being there helped me put it off for a while." I paused.

He didn't seem to be too convinced.

"Punker..." I trailed on.

I knew the only way to fully convince him that he couldn't have stopped any of this from happening, was to tell him exactly what I was thinking.

I sighed.

This was going to be a long story.

"I didn't try to kill myself." I started.

The initial confession grasping his attention.

"Like I said before, I started cutting myself to keep from drinking, not just because I was depressed."

I looked from his face, to our hands; my thumb brushing over the backs of his knuckles softly.

"And all I could think about was breaking out of the house, running down to the store, and drinking the entire fridge full. I just needed a break. But," I paused, taking a deep breath.

"but this time it didn't work. I don't know why either. Maybe it was because of all the stress from the past couple of days. Or maybe it was because I hadn't even thought about drinking in, like, two weeks. And it all finally came out."

I shrugged, daring a peek at his features.

He was curious.

"What kept you distracted that long to almost forget about drinking?"

I'd hoped he wouldn't ask me that.

But of course, all my luck was wasted on keeping me alive these past two hospital trips.

I sighed.

How was I supposed to tell him that the only reason why I hadn't thought of diving in to a bottle was because of Randy.

Hanging out with Randy was enough to stop countless new scars from forming, but Punk couldn't even stop one.

I doubt that would go over even remotely well.

I just gave him a look that, hopefully, conveyed that I really didn't want to say it.

He sighed, shaking his head.

I guess he got my message.

"Randy."

I barely heard his mutter.

And his automatic connection.

"This had nothing to do with Randy and had everything to do with me. And only me."

I enunciated the 'only' part.

No one but myself was to blame for this hospital visit.

And I wasn't about to let anyone get blamed for it; him or Randy.

"Ok?"

He nodded and squeezed my hand.

I wasn't quite sure if I'd gotten through; he could be hardheaded sometimes.

"Good." I stated, smacking my hand against his and leaning towards the door.

"Now, where's Bec?" I asked, starting to yell her name towards the door.

Somehow, I hoped she'd hear me and come in.

But a few minutes later, a different doctor came in.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked without pause.

This guy certainly was not my best friend's wife.

He just chuckled and introduced himself.

"I'm a friend of Dr. Winters."

Punk shot me a confused look.

"Bec." I muttered.

He made an 'ah' noise, and the doctor continued.

"Yes. But since her treating you would be against hospital policy, she asked me to. And because she is your primary physician, I have been keeping her updated." he paused to read the file that hung at the foot of my bed.

"You seem to be alright. But I just want to keep you here over night for observation."

I laughed.

"You just want to keep me here to make sure I'm not crazy."

The doctor shrugged.

"Basically."

I laughed again.

I liked him.

"Sorry, the last time I stayed for observation, it turn out not too fun. I'm outie." I stated, starting to get up.

"And I'm sorry. I can't let you do that."

I scoffed.

"Dude. I live with a doctor. Plus, I'm probably going to spend the day in here anyways."

"Doc. You're not going to win. Just give up."

I heard Punk advise to good doctor.

I couldn't help but smile.

"I'll go get the discharge papers." he muttered and walked out.

Yeah, definitely liked him.

I stood and took a step away from the bed, when I remembered the IV in my hand.

"And someone to get this thing out of me!"

I plopped back down, and waited a few seconds for a nurse to come in.

While I was getting the IV taken out, Punk went and got my clothes from the little cubby across the room.

There were a lot more there, then I remember putting on before.

I cocked a brow.

"I figured you'd want some actual clothes when you woke up."

"You are smart." I muttered.

He just laughed.

"Yeah. You dress, and I'll see where the doc is with your papers." he smiled, his hand lightly brushing my face.

He turned his back and a second later, there was the soft click of the door closing.

I undressed, and redressed in the horribly, old clothes Punk had probably found in his mad dash.

In a few minutes, I was dressed in time to hear a knock on the door.

It was Punk and the same nurse from before.

After a quick signing of some papers, we were on our way.

"Wait. What happened to my sweatshirt?" I asked, looking around for the gray thing.

It really had been a safe place for me, at least for a little while.

"I believe you mean, my sweatshirt, and about that." he started.

"I had them throw it away."

I dropped my jaw.

"What? Why?"

Why would he do that?

For some reason, it hit me harder then it should have.

I'd gotten attached to the damn shirt though.

"Well, it was all covered in blood. But," he paused, and walked over to where his leather jacket was hanging on the back of a chair.

"I have this."

As he turned I gasped.

I never really thought I'd see this day.

Punk holding up his favorite, Rancid sweatshirt.

And offering it to me.

"You are aware that the only way to get this from me is to pry it from my cold, dead hands, right?"

He shrugged and I pulled it on.

"That's ok. Seeing as your hands are already cold, I'm half way there right?" he smirked, grabbing his jacket, and pulled me under his arm.

We walked down the hallway, relatively undisturbed, until I stopped.

Punk cocked a brow at me.

"Dude. Do you realize that these sweatpants you brought me are from, like, years ago?" I muttered picking the wedgie I was starting to get.

He just laughed, and we continued down the hall to the nurses station, trying to find Jakie's room.

I wasn't kidding when I said I'd be spending the day here.

Conveniently, we were only a few doors away.

"You good?" Punk asked when I paused outside the door.

I didn't know what it would look like in there.

And I was dreading finding out.

But I nodded anyways, and opened the door.


	40. Forever and Always

**Hey all! We're at chapter 40! It's been a crazy couple of months, but it's not going to stop yet! Also, I'd like to add that I'm pretty excited for the new story cover thing FF is putting out. I've made some pretty killer covers for this series so far. And I can't wait to show them off! =) So yall have fun.**

**With love, **

**Skee.**

So the scene I witnessed when I first opened the door wasn't as horrific as I thought it would've been.

But it was just as sad.

Bec sat next to Jakie's bed, almost the exact same way Punk was at mine only moments before.

But that had been hours ago, and soon it was only me and Punk with Jakie.

Punk had finally convinced me to relax and sit back with him, away from the bed, for five minutes, when I fell asleep.

We both did.

It was a wonder why I was so tired.

But I knew Punk would pass out sooner or later.

It wasn't until I woke up that I realized just how tired I was; I didn't want to be awake.

At first, I heard only whispers, then a laugh.

That ever so familiar laugh snapped me awake.

And my sudden movement, woke up Punk.

We'd fallen asleep in weird positions before, but this one was by far a strange one; I was sitting on the arm rest, my legs across his lap, and using the top of his head as a pillow.

How did we manage to sleep like this, no one knows.

My eyes opened, and I saw Bec, smiling.

It was nice, but it seemed weird since all anyone had been doing around here was frowning.

Then, as I stretched, I noticed that Jakie was sitting up, and his eyes were opened.

Unseeing, but opened nonetheless.

"Jakie! You're awake!" I almost yelled, making the two some laugh as I scrambled to my feet.

Punk woke up much more gracefully; nonchalantly fixing the Cubs hat I'd fallen asleep on.

"Hey, did you drool on my hat?"

"What?" I drawled out, giving away my guilt.

I shrugged at his unimpressed look.

"Now you have a reason to get a new one!"

Now he shrugged.

"Eh. It'll dry."

And left it at that.

I groaned, one day I was going to burn that thing.

But I couldn't stay focused on that for long.

My best friend who was in a coma not a few hours ago, was finally awake.

"When did you wake up?" I asked, placing my hand on his arm.

His head turned in my general direction.

"A while ago. But we decided to let you sleep."

"Sleep, sheemp." I muttered, he smiled.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea based on what Punk told us about your recent sleeping habits."

His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be unhappy.

But that wasn't what caught my attention.

"When did you talk to Punk?"

"When he was awake earlier. And you weren't drooling on him."

I turned to Punk, jaw utterly dropped.

"And no one woke me up?"

Everyone in the room just shrugged with annoying grins on.

"I hate you all."

And now they laughed at me.

So after an hour or so of recapping the past few weeks of my life, once again, to Bec and Jakie.

The sun was starting to set.

And my stomach growled.

"We should go." Punk started, earning him a look from me.

I didn't want to leave.

"We're both hungry and this hospital food sucks. Plus, Jake needs rest too."

I sighed.

He was right.

This food did suck.

A few minutes later, we were headed out.

"Wait, Eli." Bec called to me just before Punk and I walked out of the doorway.

She had a nervous look on her face.

"I have to say something, and I want you two to hear it too."

Her words were starting to get me worried.

I nodded, and she turned back to Jakie, grasping his hand.

"I know we've been going through a rough time lately, but the thought of almost losing you was unbearable." she paused, Jakie wrapped both his hands around hers, his face concerned.

For some reason, I felt like we shouldn't have been there, and her next words confirmed that.

"And I realized, that I never want to be without you. Ever. So, do you want to marry me, again?"

I didn't have to see her to know she was smirking, it laced her voice.

Jakie smiled too.

"Every time."

His words were soft.

The whole moment was so cute and romantic, even in a hospital room.

I couldn't keep the smile from spreading over my face.

"Aw, that's cute. Don't you think?" I whispered to Punk, who was standing next to me, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah." he replied just as low.

But I could feel his vision burning on my skin.

I sheepishly turned my head towards him finding it true.

Punk was staring right at me.

I doubt he even looked at the twosome in front of us for more then a second; the look in his eyes said it all.

My heartbeat kicked up.

The moment we just witnessed was incredibly romantic.

Looking at him now, I felt unbelievably nervous.


	41. Baby Remind Me

On the five block walk home, I'd unintentionally reverted back to the nineteen year old virgin I used to be.

I had no idea what to do when Punk brushed his hand by mine, so I just kept still and turned every shade of red.

Or when we were finally home and finally eating those sandwiches he made.

But I couldn't really enjoy it because he was watching me and making me so crazy nervous that I just scarfed it down.

Granted, that's how I usually ate, but at least I can enjoy it for just a second.

Now I just stood there, shifting back and forth, not knowing what to do or say.

He stood next to me, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, hat backwards, looking like an old western cowboy.

The thought made me laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a cocked brow.

"You look like an old cowboy." I muttered.

Then realized how stupid I probably just sounded.

"I mean, the way you're standing." I stammered out.

"And not 'old' old. But like one of the cowboys from the old western shows in black and white."

Again, I realized my words.

"Not old like them. They're probably like 900 and ugly bastards. Not that you're an ugly bastard, I just mean-" I sighed in defeat.

"Why can't I just be cool again?" I sighed, slouching against the counter.

I was lightly banging the back of my head against the cabinet when Punk spoke.

And it wasn't from an arms length either.

First, it was his hands on my hips.

Then his nose brushing against my jaw.

And finally, his words.

"Will you just shut up already?"

I had a snappy comeback for his remark, but at that moment I was way too nervous to think about saying it.

One of his hands came up to my chin, and angled my head down to look at him.

And as I did just that, look at him, I shook so bad.

A smirk grew on his face as he came to kiss me gently.

It was sweet, his lips against mine.

Something I'd almost forgotten and I hated myself for it.

My hands were lost in my nerves, they just clung to the old counter top.

It wasn't until Punk swept his tongue across my lips that I started to panic.

His hands gripped tight at my hips, thumbs toying with the worn waistband of my sweatpants.

The moment itself was so great, so right, it got my heartbeat thumping a million miles a second.

It'd been so long since I'd felt like this; so nervous to the point of stupidity.

I didn't want to mess this up.

Not again.

Punk's lips left mine, making a humming noise of disapproval come from my vacant lips.

"Stop thinking so much." he muttered against my throat, instantly grasping my mental turmoil.

The second the words were spoken, his fingers gripped my waistband, and yanked down.

Underwear and all.

The coolness of the air on my tender skin made me gasp.

It was only a second later, that his body pressed against mine; his body heat warming my skin.

He kicked away the now useless clothes.

Patiently, his fingers pulled down the zipper of my most recent prize, his Rancid sweatshirt, and pushed it down my arms until it spilled to the floor.

All I was left wearing was my bra, and an old Backstreet Boys tour t-shirt.

I knew that was next.

With his mouth back against mine, his hands snaked up my shirt; not stopping until they cupped my holstered breasts.

Even through the thick padding, his thumbs killed me.

Another second, my shirt was being pulled over my head, and his hands were back to their sweet torture on my chest.

Punk broke his mouth from mine, dipping his head to kiss my small mounds of soft skin, his hands moving around my back.

He only tried once, and failed, at the clasp that held me in.

He pushed the straps off of my shoulders; I repressed a giggle when his fingers hooked into the sides, and pulled.

Someone was impatient.

I loosened my grip on the counter to reach down to my waist and unhooked the contraption.

I smirked to myself and was bringing my shaking palms back to the sanctuary of the counter top.

But my wrists were caught, Punk's hands holding fast.

I sucked in a shaky breath as he forced my hands under his shirt.

The feel of his blazing skin kicking in my instincts.

Finally.

I pulled his torso closer to me, a faint chuckle coming from his lips against my skin.

But I didn't care.

I found those lips, my hands now out from under his shirt, and kissed him feverishly.

I could feel his smirk as my tongue felt around his mouth.

Reacquainting itself with him.

The absence of his beard making it that much easier for me to deepen the kiss.

The faint brush of the smooth ring in his lip, that I usually never noticed, made the whole situation that much hotter.

With my hands trying to pull his face closer into mine, his own were messaging my aching thighs.

I pulled my hands from his face, and placed them back on the counter, pushing up to sit my ass on the edge.

There was a sickly satisfied smirk on his lips as he took a slight step back.

Staring up and down my naked skin.

It was like I'd done exactly what he wanted.

His inked fingers played towards the inside of my shut legs.

With perfect ease, those fingers pulled aside my thighs; the sensitive skin exposed to another rush of cool air.

That same smirk of sick satisfaction on his lips, he bent down to press a kiss on the hot skin of my thigh.

His arms hooked under my legs, bringing my hips closer to him.

I leaned back, my breath hard in my lungs.

The back of my head slammed against the wooden cabinet, prompting a hiss from my my lips.

It was quickly replaced with a pleading moan.

His lips, teeth, and tongue taunting the ache just inches away.

My fingers flexed up his inked arms, frustrated that he still had a shirt on.

So, instead, I went for his hair.

And was instantly frustrated at the canvas like material that still covered his head.

"Get out of here." I muttered grumpily, grabbing a fistful of Cubs hat, and chucking it out of sight.

There was a soft chuckle against my skin, trailing back upwards.

Punk's lips met mine briefly; I hoped down from the counter, starting to push him out of the kitchen.

"You know what's annoying?"

I continued at Punk's answering grunt.

"The fact that you still have clothes on."

He chuckled against my collar bone, tracing his lips around the velvet butterfly up my neck.

My hands gripped the denim of his worn jeans, and as hard as I could; I ripped the front open.

It took another try to get it fully open.

I pushed the denim down his legs, feeling them tense beneath my graze.

With a few more shuffled steps, we were headed towards the living room.

But in our anxious rush, Punk didn't get to fully kick off his jeans.

I felt them beneath one of my feet, but didn't have time to react before Punk was pushed hard into the wall behind him.

With a grunt, his eyes landed on me.

The usual hazel darkened by the shadows of the room.

And the heat of the moment.

Practically shrugging it off, his kicked his pants aside.

"You're going to pay for that."

His look a kind of sexy glower as he grabbed me with one hand and pushed me into the living room.

Oh God, I hoped so.

My legs pressed against the back of the couch; my fingers gripping his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

My palm against his bare chest, even lightly, was amazing.

Intoxicating.

I moaned against Punk's lips because of it.

And his fingers making their way up my legs, and around my backside.

With a firm grip, he lifted me up to sit on the back of the couch.

His hands, so big, made me squirm against him; fingertips grazing my most sensitive areas.

I broke my lips from his, resting my forehead against the crook of his neck.

Breathing, anxiously awaiting.

But instead of feeling his hips grind against mine, his hands pushed me aside.

Making me land on my back, laying along the couch.

I blinked for a second, then laughed as I watched Punk bend down to pick up his fallen boxers.

He gave me a goofy grin, and chucked them over his shoulder; hopping over the back of the couch on to me.

We both laughed for a few seconds, but as my hands rested on his stomach, we were both reminded of the job at hand.

I sat up a little, my lips meeting the hot flesh of his abdomen.

I kissed my way down passed his bellybutton, leaving it with it's own ring of kisses.

My palms brushed against his thighs; the tiny hairs there tickling me.

As my kisses ran lower down his body, his one hand invaded my hair; the other rubbing my back sensually.

I forced my fingers from his glorious legs, sliding them up his hips.

Along the way, stopping to outline to twin dents on either side of his hips; where perfect muscle met ridged bone.

Finally, I found the patch of course hair, using two fingers to skim a path along the underside of his hot shaft.

Base to blunt tip.

Every single muscle in his body tensed; I could feel it under my smirk.

I looked up at Punk, licking my parched lips, only to see a blatantly obvious, physical hunger written all over his face.

There was no more time for funny business.

I needed him just as bad as he needed me.

There was no denying that now.

I reached my hand up, placing it on his shoulder.

With a gentle pull, Punk was over my laying form positioned just right.

His hand at my hip lifted me up slightly.

And with a swift, never-ending kiss, months of angst and tension rolled off of me.


	42. Don't Worry I'll Keep You Warm

**Hey all! I hope you're enjoying the story and are thinking of great things to say in the reviews you're all going to write! ;) Also, I made some pretty kickass covers, or at least I think they are, for this story and Strong Resolve. Don't forget to review about those too. =) So have fun!**

**With love,**

**Skee.**

It was a few hours later Punk and I were flat on our backs on my bed.

But not without some lovely pit stops along the way.

I was laying with my head at the foot of the bed, wondering if we'd broken anything along the way, when Punk broke the silence in my bedroom.

"So how exactly did we end up like this?"

He poked the side of my head with his stockinged foot next to me.

I sighed.

"Well, you yelled at me over the phone, and never called be back."

"I meant in your bed." he grumbled playfully, continuously pushing his foot into my face.

Almost up my nose.

I swatted his foot away.

Both of us laughed.

"Well, that's a much funner story." I started.

"You shoved your tongue down my throat."

At that he scoffed.

"Me?" he said sitting up.

"Why is it that I'm the one always getting blamed when really, it's you who can't keep your hands off of me?"

I sat up too.

"But this time you really did start it!"

He shrugged.

"I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles." He muttered jokingly.

Unbeknownst to him, setting me up for the perfect line.

I paused before I answered to try and disguise my smirk, but failed.

"I bet so, Cookie Monster?"

The words came out with a hint of English accent.

Unintended, but hilarious none the less.

Punk just rolled his eyes.

"How did I not see that coming?" he grumbled.

"I've been waiting patiently for a set up, and finally, I've had it." I smiled.

Punk leaned in closer, obviously wanting me to kiss him.

Probably to make up for teasing him for the nickname from his mother.

I smirked and did so.

He was too damn cute to refuse.

But to keep with my smart-ass attitude, after pulling my lips from his, I pushing him backwards.

Then flopped back onto my own back.

"But really. I meant, in the head-to-toe position."

"Oh." I muttered.

We were laying on top of the covers of my bed, utterly naked, other than Punk's socks, indeed in the head to toe position.

"I have no idea."

Again, we laughed.

But neither of us moved.

We didn't need too.

It'd been months since we were in the same bed together, and even laying like this was satisfying enough.

And being stuck with his legs, instead of his torso and arms, didn't damper the party either.

He was inked everywhere.

I focused my attention to the skull and wreath just below his knee.

Or at least I tried.

I had to sit up and lean on my elbow to get a partial view.

His foreleg was half the length of my torso.

As I played my finger over the black ink, I noticed how crazy, hairy his legs actually were.

I couldn't help myself when I pinched a hair between my index finger and thumb, and pulled.

"AH! What are you doing?" Punk asked after jumping.

Apparently the tiny hair being pulled out, hurt.

"Nothing!" I quickly stated with wide eyes.

And for a second, that was that.

Until I pulled another hair.

"Ok. I don't trust you with my leg hair. Come here." Punk repressed a smile as he pulled me by the ankles a few inches towards him.

I laughed and flopped around to lay my head next to his.

"I'm sorry. I have to make up two months worth of torment." I muttered, kissing his nose.

"Not all in one night!" he pouted.

I couldn't resist kissing him.

I placed my hand on his bare cheek.

Sure, I'd already kissed him a thousand times already, with his shaven face, but it was still so strange to me.

I'd spent four-plus months enjoying the scratch of his beard on my face.

Now it was just weird.

I pulled back and rested my head on the pillow, just staring at him.

Now that I had him up close, he looked weird too.

Sure, I'd wondered what was under the amazing, thick, scruff but now I missed it.

Don't get me wrong, he looked damn fine without it.

But why did he have to keep shaving?

Without even finishing the initial thought, I lifted my hand an inch or so off his face and patted his cheek just a little too hard.

After registering what the hell just happened, Punk's eyes got real wide.

Before he could ask why, I started.

"See, if you had a beard that wouldn't have hurt." I nodded my head as I spoke.

He blinked a few times, processing what I'd said, and its correlation to what I did.

I could only imagine the thoughts running through his head.

"Really? You almost gave me a fucking heart attack."

He wasn't mad, per say; more like a grumpy relief.

I just shrugged.

And smoothed my fingers over the pinking skin.

Ok, so maybe I hit him harder than I thought.

"You really hate it that much?" he muttered now.

"I don't hate it." I started, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and my hand print.

"I just feel like I'm kissing a twelve-year-old."

I pressed my lips to his skin once more, and went back to my position next to him.

"Yup. Twelve-year-old." I mumbled.

He laughed.

"Well, since it served it's purpose. I guess I could grow my beard out again." he muttered.

I cocked a brow.

"What purpose was that?"

His smile fell a tiny bit, and the blood started rushing to his face.

He was embarrassed.

I couldn't help but smirk.

"Initially, it was to get you mad."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Why would you want me to be mad?"

"Because I hadn't heard from you in over a week, and I figured since you loved the bread so much that me shaving would piss you off and you'd call me back."

"You called me?"

"Yeah, like a thousand times."

I blinked.

"Huh. That's why I had a bunch of missed calls. Maybe I shouldn't delete things before I read them..." I muttered.

And under his breath, I heard him sigh in relief.

"And why are you relieved about that?"

He groaned.

"Well, maybe, just maybe, some of those messages I left were kind of embarrassing."

He looked up towards the ceiling.

I couldn't help but smile.

After everything the past few days; his light mood was the best thing I could dream of.

I sat up, shifting to sit on his stomach, and put my face directly in his view.

My fingers swiped against his cheeks as I spoke.

"I think I need an example."

We both smirked.

Mine was pure evil.

I was worried about his.

With a throat clear, he started.

"Baby I'll never break your heart!" he yelled, singing it.

More like murdered.

Instantly, I was horrified.

And needed it to stop.

I clasped both my hands over his mouth and shook my head.

"Oh baby. No. Never. Ever." I muttered.

Only letting his lips free on the condition that they kiss me.

And with a smile, he gladly accepted it.

His own fingers played along my hips; lightly brushing the tiny blonde hairs there.

"Now, I thought you liked my singing?" he muttered.

I let out a low laugh.

"Not when you kill my favorite song."

I smirked against his lips.

His hands gliding higher up my torso.

His thumbs gliding up my rib cage.

But his hands didn't do the usual; slide around my back, or even stay up front and personal.

They kept their upward direction along my flanks.

Until I stopped them.

Punk's lighthearted smile turned concerned.

But I just shook my head, embarrassed.

In Texas, I'd woken up with a new permanent blemish on my skin; a pink, puckering one on the side of my chest.

Looking back on it, it was a small price to pay for life; burned by the very machine that brought me back.

But it wasn't one I was proud of.

The only reason I had it was because of my drinking.

I dared open my squeezed shut eyes, seeing Punk's brows furrowed.

His face looking utterly hurt.

And angry?

Not something I was used to seeing on him.

"What the hell?"

I lifted my head slightly to furrow my brows.

So he was mad?

"Sorry, but I'm just a little frustrated with the fact that you'll take your shirt off for Randy whenever, but after everything we've been through, you still wont trust me."

He sat up against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest.

I looked down at my hands, twittering my thumbs; quite literally.

"It's not like that." I muttered, still looking down.

"Then, please, tell me. I really don't want to wait four months to hear the truth from you. Not again."

I knew he didn't really mean the sharp tone to his voice.

But it still hurt.

He already hated Randy, and this wasn't helping.

I sighed.

"It's a burn." I stammered out, still adverting my gaze.

Just inside my vision, I could see his arms relax against his chest.

"From a defibrillator at a hospital in Texas."

I took another breath.

"And the only reason Randy got be remotely close to it is because I don't really care what he thinks."

I dared to look up, fearing to find the same unhappy look across his features.

I was surprised to see it softened.

Now into his own surprise.

"But I do care what you think and there aren't very many happy memories attached to it either."

It was a few seconds later that Punk made any kind of movement, or communication effort.

His hand came from my waist to my face; thumb brushing along my cheek.

"I can't believe I never said this to you before, but" he paused, bringing his other hand to my cheek as well.

"you're beautiful."

The words were slow and very deliberate, coming from his lips.

They hit me so hard that I stopped breathing for a second.

Or two.

And actually, he hadn't really.

Not in so many words.

I was still struck dumb when he continued.

"And I love you, no matter what."

That one I'd heard a lot.

And had the perfect response to.

With a smirk, I came out of my stupid face and leaned towards his.

"What?" I whispered.

It was a few seconds until he realized I was making fun of him.

With a smile he kissed me, and rolled me onto my back.

His fingers making a bee line for my flanks and the little, quarter sized scar.


	43. Wild Ones

We awoke the next morning, or should I say hours later, to a yell in the hallway.

"Good God!" the familiar female voice said in the doorway.

I lifted myself off the bed, peaking around the room seeing Bec with her hand clamped over her eyes.

I snapped my head towards a still snoozing Punk, all the important parts covered.

In fact, all his parts were covered.

I looked back at myself, bare ass in the open.

I groaned and yanked some blanket back from Punk.

"What?"

My voice gravelly from sleep.

Not to mention the hours of yelling and screaming the previous night.

I put my face back into the pillow, waiting for her answer.

"Put some clothes on, I need a baby sitter."

I groaned.

I was so exhausted, she had no idea.

"Why?"

"Because my mother has shit to do today and I have to work. It's only for a few hours."

Eh.

A few hours wasn't that bad.

"When?"

"At nine thirty. That's in an hour and a half."

I groaned, doing the math.

"What? It's not even nine yet? What is wrong with you?"

"Hey, I tried to call you last night but you never answered!"

I just mumbled into the pillow some incoherent words.

In case she hadn't noticed, I was a little busy all night.

"Here's your phone. I set an alarm. And I told my mother to call before she came over. Ok?"

I heard the clink of my phone being set on the hard wood night stand.

I nodded and at that she left, closing the door behind her.

It was a few minutes later when I finally found the inspiration to roll to the edge of the bed.

As I sat there, rubbing my eyes, I heard a groan and a hand gripped my side.

"Where are you going?"

I smiled and turned my head to see a barely conscious Punk.

"Rosie is coming home and I need to get dressed."

It was another second and I felt his other hand on me as well.

"I'm pretty sure she said we had until nine thirty."

Now Punk started to pull.

Pull me towards him back on the bed.

He had a point.

I still had so much time.

I could lounge for a few minutes.

I swung my legs back onto the bed, and laid next to him.

It wasn't a second later and I was sandwiched between his chest and arms.

"That's what I thought." he muttered at his victory.

He wasted no time rolling me onto my back, still engulfed in his arms.

He snuggled his face into my chest, but in a cute way.

His eyes were still closed, and his lips pealed back in a giddy, playful smile.

I couldn't help but laugh.

My hand rested on his head, petting down the strands of hair that were forced to stray.

It was only fitting that my fingers were the ones to fix it, seeing as it was my fault.

We stayed like that for a little bit, his arms unwrapped themselves from around me, and his head took a new position.

But my hand stayed in it's spot, even with his lips all the way down by my rib cage.

It was a nice.

Then there was a blunt pain at my side.

I gasped, and sat up a bit.

Looking down at what had caused it.

I groaned.

"Punk! I have to suit up on Friday! Why?"

But my objection didn't break the grip his lips had on my flesh.

Or the vacuum his mouth made.

But damn.

I couldn't complain.

The man knew how to use his mouth.

I flopped back on the the bed, deciding to just enjoy it while it lasted; the feel of his tongue pressing against my skin, his teeth lightly grazing the tender area.

I'd hardly noticed Punk shift against me, pushing my legs to either side of him.

Finally, his mouth let go of me.

But went right back, kissing along my torso until he found my lips.

His hand smoothing it's way down my thigh was an after thought to me.

Until a singular digit grazed over the dampening folds between us.

Instantly I broke my lips from his to take in a shocked gasp.

Shocked, yet equally excited.

"Punk, we can't."

My voice was horse as I reminded him of the visitor we were to expect in just an hours time.

"It's barely eight thirty. We got time."

His voice was just as horse next to my ear.

With a well pressed finger to a fully aware body part of mine, Punk had me amply convinced.

It wasn't until another well placed finger joined in, that I verbalized it.

"Ok."

It was just a breathless whimper.

I could feel his smirk against my jaw, trailing down to my lips.

The quick kiss distracted me from his actual entry.

I shouldn't have been surprised that he was well ready to go.

But I was.

For a moment.

His hand that had toyed with my insides came around my hip, lifting me off the bed slightly.

A strangled moan came from my lips.

Inviting his pace to quicken.

And boy, did it.

My breathless sighs turned to desperate moans in a matter of seconds.

But even at this quickened pace, I could still tell Punk was taking his sweet damn time.

Drawing out the torture.

I got lost in the feel of sweet agony, losing track of time.

Faintly, I heard the click of the front door, and feet walking through the foyer.

I snapped my eyes from their blissful, shut, state; gripping Punk's shoulders.

"Wait." I whispered.

He groaned, and slowed.

But never really stopping.

"Punk, I think she's here." I said in a hurried whisper.

Another second and my worst nightmare was confirmed.

"Oh my God. Punk we have to stop."

At that he laughed, slightly and breathlessly.

"Like hell we're stopping."

I looked up at him, a set of furrowed brows and confusion on my face.

He was dead serious.

He had no intention of stopping.

His darkened hazel eyes screamed it.

And something about that turned me on.

But I didn't have time to think about it, not with the lighting fast pace he'd started in on a second later.

I had to force myself from squealing at the suddenness.

Punk brought his head down next to mine, still keeping his speed, reminding me to be quiet.

He had no idea how important it was for me to stay silent.

Or how hard it would be.

I tried everything; biting my lip, my cheek, even clamping my jaw shut.

It all barely worked.

I thought, maybe I could make it.

But my phone blasting next to my head broke my concentration.

I hurried to silence it.

I didn't want Bec's mother coming up stairs for any reason whatsoever.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." I muttered breathlessly, tapping the touch screen as it laid on the nightstand.

After a few tries, it stopped.

Finally.

In between hushed moans, I whispered.

"Punk, hurry, faster!"

Then it started.

The painfully pleasurable build to what could very well be an earth shattering orgasm.

My next moan was slightly louder then it should have been.

"Elijia?"

I heard my full name being called from down the stairs.

"Faster!"

His answering groan, and compliance sent me reeling.

My short, choppy breaths turned to low moans.

So close.

So close.

I tried to keep in check.

But failed utterly.

I was about to let loose a cry of absolute, mind-numbing, pleasure, when Punk's hand clasped over my lips.

My scream faded into his palm.

And a few seconds later we were catching our breath.

"Elijia, are you up there?"

There was the creak of the first step.

I looked up at Punk, his features still exhausted.

Lightly, I grasped his face in my fingers, and kissed him.

"I love you."

Another kiss.

"I love you."

Another.

"I love you."

And another.

"Now I got to go."

The last kiss lasted a few seconds longer, then I heard the creek of the fifth step.

I pushed him off of me, him landing with a grunt on his face.

Quickly I dug through my drawers trying to find something, anything, to wear.

A second later I found an old ripped t-shirt and paint stained shorts.

I slipped them on, not having time to worry about underwear.

I wrenched the wooden door open, and instantly brought it to an easy close behind me.

"Oh, Elijia. You are here. I was starting to worry that you'd left without calling Rebecca."

I gave my roommate's mother a cheerful smile, before I stepped away from the door.

I sighed in relief when she turned and walked back down the stairs she'd just climbed.


	44. Like a Fish in the Sea

**Hey all! Sorry about the so few updates recently, I'm starting to get a little stuck! Oh no! But don't you worry about that writer crap, I'm getting there! So, I ask, just be patient, and you'll see some good stuff soon! Until then, have fun, and review. **

**With love, **

**Skee.**

"So, Rosanna has eaten breakfast and she had a bath last night." Bec's mother stated, using the child's full first name.

I repressed an eye roll.

The poor kid hated the name.

Yet her own grandmother refused to call her Rosie.

I glanced into the living room, Rosie eying the National Geographic show on the television with utter confusion.

Her tiny blond brows furrowed, gaped gums showing with her dropped jaw.

Frankly, I didn't even know what she was watching.

Quickly, I stepped towards her and switched the channel to something more cartoon.

"Elijia, did you hear me?" Bec's mother snapped when I didn't immediately respond.

"Yes, Ms. Fortin."

I'd known her for the upside of seven years, yet the old bag never let me call her by her first name.

I scurried back into the hallway.

It wasn't hard to see which parent Bec took after.

Her and her mother shared several attributes.

Aside from the dark hair and even darker eyes, they were both crazy, anal retentive freaks.

Granted, Bec was a doctor and needed to sweat the details.

Her mother was just psychotic.

So psychotic, in fact, that I had to keep Punk upstairs, and hiding like a teenage boy.

"Also, she has been practicing this new pronunciation book and I want to make sure she sticks- why are these here?"

I was repressing a scoff at her words, good luck trying to get Rosie to talk, when she stopped; snapping my attention to what she pointed at.

Blue plaid print boxer shorts.

Coincidentally, the same ones that Punk threw last night.

I forced my eyes not to widen as her gaze shifted from the underwear on the lampshade, to me.

"Those are Jakie's. He's blind and sometimes he forgets where his stuff goes."

I phrased it as a question, hoping like hell that would be the end of it.

After a hushed scoff, she shrugged it off and turned to the other room.

"I've also been giving her just water during the day. What is the filtration system like here?" she called from down the hallway.

And suddenly, I remembered my entire ensemble from last night was scattered throughout the kitchen. Which she was striding towards as I came to the realization.

"Just fine." I spat out, inserting myself between her and the door.

There wasn't nearly enough time for me to clean up that mess before she saw it, and judged me on it.

She just shot me a offended, curious look and turned back towards the front door.

Finally, this old broad was leaving.

She slipped on her coat, and turned back towards the living room.

"Rosanna, Grammie's leaving." she called to the child, who was absorbed in Mexican themed cartoons.

She just raised her hand in a quick wave.

It took another second for Ms. Fortin to realize that the kid wasn't getting up.

With a silent huff, she turned and opened the outside door, without a goodbye to me.

There was a light slam when the door closed.

"Is she gone?"

I heard Punk whisper from upstairs.

I poked my head into the stairwell, seeing him wrapped in my bed comforter.

"Finally." I smiled, he sighed.

"Cool. Can you throw me up my pants?"

I laughed and nodded.

I found his pants down the dark hallway that lead to the basement.

I'd kicked them there when I came down stairs over thirty minutes ago.

The woman had gotten here almost an hour early, and stayed for too damn long.

When I came back to the stairs, denim in hand, Punk was buck naked at the top.

I had my arm lifted to toss his jeans, but lost all maturity and busted out laughing.

"What?"

"You're lucky I love you sometimes." I laughed, chucking him his pants.

It was a few minutes later and he was down the dark wood stairs in a flash.

With a quick peck, he was off down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"And by sometimes, I mean when you aren't in the kitchen."

He turned around and shot me a sarcastic laugh.

Then disappeared through the swinging door. I took two steps to follow him when the front door flung wide open.

Promptly scaring the shit out of me.

"I drove down the block and realized I forgot to give you Rosanna's favorite doll."

Ms. Fortin was back.

Ah hell.

She handed me the ugliest thing I'd ever seen.

I had to resist showing the shiver that came up my spine at the site of the cracked porcelain face.

Bullshit this was Rosie's favorite.

And like hell it was staying in my house.

"You ok?" I heard Punk's voice come from behind me.

I shut my eyes, anticipating the annoying hell storm that was about to come raining down on me now. Ms. Fortin had seen Punk.

I knew he was just making sure everything was ok, but I tried so damn hard to hide him and now he blew it.

"Oh. Elijia. Who is this gentleman?" Ms. Fortin tried to play off her disgust as surprise.

But I saw the look she gave him the instant he opened the door.

She gave me the same look almost every time I saw her.

The tattoos that covered almost his entire upper body were what prompted her disgust.

No doubt the piercing in his lip made it that much worse.

"Uh. Hi. I'm Phil." Punk stammered out awkwardly, taking the few steps towards us to shake her hand.

I couldn't help but smile at the reminder of his birth name.

I was so used to calling him Punk that I almost totally forgot his real name was Phil.

Ms. Fortin took a few seconds to introduce herself, but that was an after thought to me.

I was more focused on the tiny blond blob poking out from behind the living room wall.

It was a few seconds later when she realized that Punk was standing in front of her.

And she came running, stopping just short of his feet.

She looked up at him, jaw dropped.

Probably trying to figure out why the hell he was here.

The fun started when Punk actually noticed she was there.

"Oh, hey you." he muttered, patting her head like she were a dog.

She didn't seem to mind, seeing as she was still in awe.

But I had to say, the kid had great timing.

Her grandmother was making things totally awkward, and her cute-as-a-button face smoothed it all out.

Sort of.

Ms. Fortin didn't really seem to like the fact that her granddaughter was loving all up on a half naked, tattooed man, instead of her.

She hated it so much, in fact, that she stormed out of the house without another word.

The greatest thing I'd ever seen.

When the door closed, Rosie tore her eyes from Punk, to me.

A smile ripping across the kid's face like wildfire.

Her arms rose high in the air, demanding I pick her up.

Of course I did so.

Not forgetting to lock the door before we left for the living room again.

I didn't want the damned women coming in my house anymore today.

It took some convincing, but after five or so minutes, Rosie finally let me put her down.

I was tired, hungry, and grumpy.

So she was used to the usual.

"So, here we are again." I heard Punk mutter from the door way of the kitchen.

I was hunched over in front of the fridge, searching for something to eat that didn't require preparation. I groaned when I realized that there was nothing in the fridge.

And by nothing, I mean it was filled with random stuff that needed cooking.

I straightened out, and closed to door, turning back to Punk.

"So we are." I smirked, leaning back against the fridge.

He wasted no time crossing the room to stand in front of me.

One of his arms coming to rest next to my head, against the fridge, the other toying with a hole in my shirt.

I could feel his breath against my face, it hot and shallow.

My fingers made light tread over the t-shirt from last night he'd pulled on.

"I hate how you have a shirt on." I muttered against his lips, taunting them ever so lightly.

He smirked, letting out a light chuckle.

"Join my club."

His hand slid under my shirt mostly unnoticed, lightly tracing the skin with the pads of his fingers.

There was a low growl that rumbled in my throat, but it was silenced when Punk touched his lips to mine.

It when from a light brushing, to a full on tonsil hockey match in seconds.

While my one hand stayed, tugging, on his shirt, my other wrapped around the back of his head; feeling his warm brown locks slip between my fingers, then back down his neck.

Not even a second later, Punk dipped his head into his shoulders, startled by something.

With furrowed brows, we both looked towards the door that was now swinging back and forth.

Between each swing, we could faintly see Rosie standing on the other side.

Fists balled, staring holes into Punk.

An almost ominous shadow crossed over her face, giving her glower an eerie feel.

I looked around the kitchen, seeing the plastic wiffle ball she'd thrown at his head.

The door's swinging slowed, and eventually came to a stop.

Only then did the tiny shadow from under the door disappear.

"She is a demon, I swear."

I couldn't help but laugh at the truth of his words.

Little did he actually know.


	45. Only Beats For You

**It Only Beats for You**

"What the hell? Everyone knows she's going to show up right in the nick of time and save the day! Why waste the time worrying about it?" Punk said, frustratedly, to the TV.

The three of us had been sitting on the couch for a good hour or so, watching Rosie's favorite show.

And Punk started freaking out at the Mexicans on screen.

I watched Rosie as she slowly turned her head to look at Punk.

I could only imagine the scowl she wore.

He looked down at her, looking almost on guard.

I would hope so.

After she pegged him with the wiffle ball, Rosie went out of her way to make Punk's day hell.

Whether it be by forcing us to sit on opposite ends of the couch, or by slamming a thick story book on his balls.

Either way, Punk was no longer a shining light in her eyes.

The only reprieve he got was when my phone started ringing upstairs and he demanded to be the one who got it.

Weird part; it was the alarm that Bec had set, going off.

But as Rosie looked up at him now, I could sense this was going to be funny.

And she didn't let me down.

There it was; sweet music to my ears.

The first words the child had said loud enough for someone to hear.

"Shud dup."

Punk dropped his jaw as she turned her head back to the screen to enjoy some well deserved television.

My jaw was also dropped.

Then I picked it up to laugh nonstop.

"Silence, women." Punk muttered grumpily, pointing his index finger at me; his face scrunched up adorably.

I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, prompting him to attack.

His assault was quickly thwarted by the two-year-old using my leg as a pillow between us.

The second he made a move to get closer to me, she snapped her head up and gave him the dirtiest look.

Punk just sat back, hands up defensively.

"She won't be able to save you forever." he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

I laughed at the fact that a baby was winning against him.

But with a quick pat to the knee, Rosie demanded my silence as well.

I looked back to Punk with a smile.

But I couldn't hold back the yawn that tore through me.

After only sleeping for a handful of hours, some morning fun-time, and dealing with Rosie's Gram from hell; sitting here and relaxing was enough to knock me out.

The only thing that was missing was feeling Punk next to me as I fell asleep.

As if reading my mind, Punk reached his hand along the back of the couch; it touching the back of my neck ever so softly.

His fingers making quick message on my always aching muscles.

I sighed.

Yep.

This was as perfect of sleep conditions I was going to get any time soon, might as well take advantage of it.

And I sure as hell did.

"Well isn't this cute?"

My head snapped up at the new voice in the room.

Punk's hand at my neck had stopped.

I turned my head, while trying to moisten my dry mouth, when Punk's head snapped up too.

"Both my baby sitters are asleep, and the baby is wide awake."

I kept with moistening my mouth as I turned seeing Bec standing in her scrubs.

"That's so hot." Punk said, still looking at me.

I couldn't really tell if he was being sarcastic or not, with his gravelly morning voice.

But I was ok with it either way.

"Ew. Well, I guess it's a good thing that I'm taking Rosie out of your obviously asleep hands." Bec paused, raising her voice slightly.

"Hey baby, want to go see daddy?"

I got to watch time freeze around the child.

She stiffened against my leg, that she still used as a pillow, then snapped up to turn back and look at her mother.

Utter disbelief in her eyes.

And excitement.

That's right.

The poor kid hadn't seen Jakie in over a week.

In a flash she was off of me and running towards the door.

"I guess you got your answer." I muttered, still half asleep.

She rolled her eyes, and in a few minutes, was opening the door.

"Why is there an ugly ass doll on the doorstep?"

I heard her yell.

I smirked.

"Because your mother is crazy if she thinks that thing is coming in my house!" I yelled back.

She laughed, and a few moments later they were both gone.

My head was flopped back against the couch, I rolled it over to eye Punk.

"Sleepy?" I asked with a smile.

He rolled his head towards me with a smile of his own and nodded.

With a groan, I stood.

I didn't want to.

That damn couch was comfortable.

But I got up anyways, and extended my hand to Punk.

Who was looking awfully pitiful at the moment.

He didn't hesitate taking it, as I dragged him back up to my room to sleep.

After a few slips on the stairs on my part, we were finally in my room.

I wasted no time, diving face first into the pillow I had to pry myself out of earlier.

Punk was right behind me, literally rolling over me instead of being a normal person and walking around the bed.

I groaned as his full 220-something weight flopped on top of me.

But once he'd gotten in his spot, I felt his hands pull me towards him.

Pulling me into his arms.

I felt his forehead against mine, my eyes peaking through my lids at his perfect face.

He was doing the same.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he mumbled, grasping my attention immediately.

I grinned, about to give him a smart-ass answer about last night and this morning.

"And not just the sex either."

His eyes were almost fully open now, and staring right back at me.

I had to look at them, I couldn't tear my green from his hazel.

His hand that was around my back came up to my face.

Punk traced a line or two along the side of my face with one finger.

"Like the words you make up, but insist they're real." he smirked.

"But they are real!"

My exclamation wasn't exclaimed at all.

I spoke the words as a sleepy plea.

He laughed, and continued.

"Uhhuh. And how you complain about me cheating at laser tag, then cheat yourself."

"Not cheating; gaining a tactical advantage."

He laughed again.

"And how you make promises to dry my wet sneakers, and then never follow through. So eventually I have to spend hours with the hair dryer, drying my sneakers by hand."

I had to laugh at that.

"Why would you miss that?" I asked, bringing my own hand from around him, to his neck.

He shrugged.

"Then there's how cute you are sleeping after a long night of loving, because everyone knows that you snore like a wildebeest every other night." he smirked at his own words as he brought his head towards me, kissing my cheek.

"I don't snore." I stated plainly.

"And I don't have boobs. Yet you have the urge to mention it everyday."

I shrugged.

He got me there.

"And the fact that you're around."

He kissed my cheek again.

"And how I can kiss you any time I want."

Even in my daze, I knew exactly where he got that from.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Yet another movie you swore up and down you'd never, ever, see. And here you are; quoting it."

I smiled as I lightly grasped his chin in my hand, and kissed his lips lightly.

When I pulled away, I couldn't help but go back.

He felt so right against me, in every way.

I wasn't quite done with him yet.

It wasn't anything sultry; just the same soft, easy kiss a few dozen times.

We were both too tired for anything more.

Punk's words were the last thing I remember.

"See, I told you I missed you."

There was a warmth against my forehead, then sweet nothingness.


	46. Build for Two

It was a few hours later that I woke up.

The sun was still high in the sky, so it was probably late afternoon.

Punk was still unconscious next to me.

Very carefully, I untangled myself from his arms, and tiptoed down stairs.

It'd been a few hours since either of us had eaten, and the couple of bowls of cereal wasn't much to begin with.

So into the kitchen I went, scrounging for something to eat.

I opened the fridge, expecting to see the same nothingness I saw earlier.

Instead, I was pleasantly surprised.

Atop of some white cardboard containers, there was a sticky note.

_I got you guys some Chinese since I'd like to have a house to come home to later. _

_Ps. I don't appreciate you doing that in the same kitchen I feed my family in. _

_That's gross. _

_Love, Bec. _

There were some scribbles across the bottom and a side note.

_That was Rosie._

I let out a small laugh, and took the two containers out of the fridge and into the microwave.

Two minutes ought to do it, I thought.

After a swift few clicks, and a quick grab for my clothes from last night, I went to go wake Punk.

When I walked into the room, he was still dead asleep.

He hadn't even moved from the position I'd left him in.

I plopped down on my knees next to him, my hand rubbing his chest lightly.

"Punk, wake up." I muttered in a sing song tone.

He stirred a little, but stayed mostly asleep.

Again, I rubbed his chest, harder now.

"Punk." I said louder.

He groaned, covering his face with his arm.

"You know, I've never met anyone who has better boobs then you." I grinned.

The remark instantly rousing him.

He sat up a little, scowling at me.

"You're going to pay for that."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I seem to recall you saying the same thing last night. But look, I'm still here."

I kept my grin, pulling him closer.

Urging him to kiss me.

His lips were milliseconds from meeting mine, when there was a bang from down stairs.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, instantly fully awake.

It caught my attention too.

"I have no idea."

It was a second pause before both of us hopped up, and ran down the stairs.

Thankfully, without any accidents on my part.

The front door was still bolted, and none of the windows were broken.

I even checked down stairs, everything was good.

"Eli, come here."

I heard Punk yell to me as I came up the basement steps.

He was in the kitchen.

As I pushed open the door, I was exposed to the aftermath of the bang.

I looked into the corner of the room, where the microwave resided, it usually stainless steel, now black. "I found what blew up." Punk stated plainly.

I shot him a look on how his commentary wasn't necessary.

"No shit?"

I walked past him, pressing the button to open the machine.

A few pieces of food fell off the door, but the rest of it was sprayed around the box.

It was a disaster.

I stared wide eyed at the mess.

"Yeah, let's go out to eat." I muttered, closing the door and scurrying away.

Punk just stood there.

"Before Bec comes home and sees!" I said, pushing him from the room.

We ran up stairs, dragging the suit cases that still sat at the bottom of the stairs, and dressed to go into public.

"So where did you end up throwing my hat last night?" Punk asked as I deliberated which shirt to wear.

He came up from behind me, and yanked a shirt from my hand, making the decision for me.

"That one. You're not wearing a shirt that says, 'I love mustaches'."

He looked up from the shirt in his hand, and gave me an unimpressed look.

"Why did you spend money on this?" he asked, completely confused.

I shrugged.

"I thought it was funny."

I looked down at the shirt he left in my hand, it a team logo shirt.

"Devils it is then." I muttered, slipping it on.

"You never answered my question." Punk stated again.

I just shrugged, glancing over my shoulder to see him already fully dressed.

"How the hell are you dressed already?"

"I'm a guy. I just grabbed the first thing I saw." he paused.

"But I'll say it again, you never answered my question."

I shrugged, threading my belt through the loops in my jeans.

"I don't know. Maybe you should buy a new one."

He didn't reply to my remark, which concerned me.

Once I had my belt finished, I was going to turn around.

But before I could, Punk's big hand came smack against my ass.

And it wasn't the good kind either.

Even through the denim, it hurt like hell.

Knocked the breath out of me too.

"What the fuck? That hurt!"

I turned around looking at his grin.

Both of my hands came around to hold my surely reddening behind.

"So did slamming against the wall when you tripped me last night!"

Punk threw back, playfully raising his voice.

"I did not trip you! It was an accident!"

He scoffed.

"Sure it was. Now where's my hat?" he asked, winding his hand back for another smack.

I screamed a little, and answered.

"God! It's on the floor in the kitchen!"

I cried, still holding my aching butt.

Punk just laughed, and came to kiss me softly.

"Now, was that so hard?" he muttered against my lips.

I let out a whine and nodded.

"It hurt my butt!" I grumbled.

But he just laughed, and left to get that damned hat from the destroyed kitchen.

It was just after sundown when we were finally on our way back to the house.

The restaurant we ended up going to was only a few blocks away from the hospital, and we ended up stopping by there too.

Jakie had been by himself for almost an hour, which meant Bec had gotten home just after we left.

He told us about her very angry phone call; something about an explosion in the kitchen.

So when we actually arrived back at the house, we were like ninjas.

Or at least we tried.

Bec had the hearing of a bat, I swear.

Moments after I closed the front door, her head popped out of the kitchen.

"Eli! Get your ass in here and clean your goddamn mess!"

I groaned obnoxiously, but went anyways.

I could hear Punk laughing behind me, no doubt pointing as well.

"You too, Chuckles!"

That shut him up real quick.

"I want a new microwave." she muttered as I passed by.

I nodded.

It seemed fair, I blew up her old one, I'd have to buy her a new one.

"And, no monkey business in here!"

I had to laugh at her words, it reminding me of the note she left with the remains of Chinese food on the floor and counter.

And at that, she left us too clean the kitchen.

The whole thing.

I was sweeping the floor, gathering even the bits of food not from my explosion, when a concerning thought came into my head.

Tomorrow, we had to go back to work.

"So are we just going to go back to normal tomorrow?" I muttered the question, half hoping he didn't hear it.

But he did.

Damn.

He turned from scrubbing the counter to look at me, confused.

"I mean, are we going to go on like the last few months never happened, or are we just not going to talk to each other some more?"

I know it sounded mean, but it was a legitimate question.

One Punk didn't quite know the answer to either.

He shrugged.

"Well, we can't really ignore the past few months. But I sure as hell don't want us to ignore each other either."

His answer was so helpful.

"So what do we do?"

He sighed.

"I don't know." he paused.

I tried so hard to repress a groan.

But the slightest one came out.

And earned me a glance.

"How about this." he started, coming to stand next to me against the table.

"You stop being impatient-"

"And you stop getting jealous."

I cut him off quickly.

I shot him a grin, his own barely able to stay hidden.

"Alright." he paused, regaining his previous thoughts.

"and we can give it another shot?"

Instead of giving a verbal answer.

I held out my pinky, earning a cocked brow from Punk.

But instead of questioning me, he just hooked his finger with mine, and that was that.

"I don't hear cleaning in there!" Bec yelled from the living room next door.


	47. Bittersweet Baby

The next morning was a little more dramatic then one would expect.

I had to force myself awake at six.

Today was Thursday.

And that meant time to return to work.

Mine and Punk's flight left at eleven.

We'd touchdown back in Mexico just in time for Punk to make it to the Raw house show that evening.

The sun had just started it's rise above the horizon, and I was sitting on the edge of my bed, stalling.

Gross as it may sound, but it'd been two days since my last shower.

And though I'd never admit it, the fact that I almost killed myself in that bathroom a few days ago haunted me.

Even if it was an accident.

Sort of.

I groaned and rested my face in my hands.

I couldn't quite work up the nerve to get in there.

Not yet anyways.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Punk's sleepy rasp from behind me startled me a bit.

I felt his hand reach out and lightly grasp my hip.

I sighed and leaned back, my head ending up on his chest.

"I have to shower." I mumbled.

"I've noticed." he mumbled back, earning him a blind backhand to the face.

It was a few seconds later that he continued talking.

"Want me to go with you?"

I turned my head towards his, and nodded.

Aside from it sounding extremely fun, I'd feel better if I wasn't alone.

There was a slight smirk on his tired face as he spoke.

"Too bad. I'm sleeping."

I let out a whimper and pouted.

"Please?" I whined.

He just kept smirking.

"Nope."

I groaned louder.

"Don't worry you'll be fine."

I sighed, not fully believing him.

Yeah, it was just a bathroom.

But a couple days ago I was laying unconscious in there.

So saying I almost killed myself may be a tiny exaggeration, but it was a very real possibility if Punk wasn't there to find me.

I sniffled a little bit, leading into my big play.

Deep down, I really didn't want to go alone.

My eyes started to burn; vision getting fuzzy on purpose.

"You're trickery won't work on me this time!" Punk laughed putting his hand over my eyes.

I groaned.

"You'll be fine." He muttered as I felt his lips press against mine.

After that I got up.

"You know what you can do?"

"What?"

I looked back towards him laying on the bed.

He replied with a smirk.

"You can always leave the door open. You know, just in case you need me."

"Or maybe because you want me to serenade you with some Backstreet?"

His smirk fell, as I took the last few steps backwards to the bathroom.

"Definitely not what I meant."

"I think it was."

I smirked, poking my head out of the bedroom door.

"No. No, I'm pretty sure it wasn't!" he yelled to me.

I laughed, and started.

"If you wanted to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy!" I yelled, unzipping my brand new Rancid sweatshirt.

If fell to the floor with ease, leaving my underwear for last.

"No!" Punk yelled back.

I turned the water on before I continued.

"If you want it to be wild, gotta know just who to dial baby. And that's me!"

Now completely naked, I stepped into the lukewarm shower.

"Not a lie there."

I barely heard Punk say from my bed.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"If you really like it hot, find someone who hits the spot, honey. Oh yes."

"I will give you a thousand dollars to stop singing right now." I paused, giving Punk some false hope.

"And if you want to get it done, Babe, you got to get the one. The one who's got it going on."

I heard him groan.

Crushing his dreams was so fun.

I got to finish singing the song, but not without him complaining the whole time though.

I was humming the same song to myself a few minutes later when the shower curtain ruffled behind me.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a smirk, staring at a equally naked Punk.

He held a surprised look.

"Oh, you didn't yell for me to come wash your back? My bad."

He couldn't hold back his smirk any more as he stepped into the tub and under the water with me.

It was another second and my hands were pushing back on his shoulders that were down to my level.

His mouth gliding over my wet neck.

"You know we can't do anything in here, right?" I muttered against his ear.

Punk just laughed, and shook his head.

"I'm serious. The last time we were here, we got real lucky."

That got Punk to raise his head from the sweet torture.

And with a smirk he spoke.

"Luck is for losers."

His words raised my brows; my own smirk coming on.

"I'm pretty sure we were winners that day."

We were laughing, when I heard the bang of my bedroom door.

I wasn't too concerned with why someone was in my room; Bec regularly invaded my privacy. But I was pretty sure she was still asleep.

So the worrisome question was who was in my room?

With furrowed brows, and complaints from Punk, I grabbed the towel that was laying on the floor and wrapped it around me.

I didn't have to take a full step out of the bathroom to see Rosie, causing trouble.

"Rosie!" I yelled, scaring the crap out of the baby.

She dropped the heap of denim in front of a somehow opened window.

"What are you doing?" I grumbled walking over and looking out the window.

On the ground, two stories down, laid a t-shirt, boxers, and a pair of socks.

I looked down at the jeans she was attempting to throw out before I caught her; they were Punk's.

I cocked a brow.

"Rosie, were you throwing Punk's stuff out the window?"

She looked up at me, and shrugged.

"What's going on out here?" Punk asked, a towel around his waist as well.

Rosie's head snapped towards him, the darkest, most evil look I'd ever seen on the child took over her entire face.

It was almost laughable.

But she was in trouble.

I had to keep my composure.

"Hey, is Rosie in here?"

I heard Bec ask through the door to the hallway.

Slowly, she creaked the door open.

"Yeah, and she's being a brat." I scowled down at the child.

She started to pout.

"She threw Punk's stuff out the window."

"What?"

Both Punk and Bec said, walking towards the window.

They both looked down at the ground, seeing the same thing I had.

From there, Bec took Rosie to her room.

Corner time I guess.

"I told you that kid was evil."


	48. Honey I'm Home

**So I totally fucked up on something. Chapter 45, previously called Built for Two, was supposed to be chapter 46. So, I just fixed it all. If you haven't already, read chapter 45, and things might make more sense. lol Sorry about the confusion! Remember, have fun, review! **

**With love, **

**Skee.**

After a quick stop in at the hospital, Punk and I were Mexico bound.

Finally. It'd been a long day.

And the scene with Rosie this morning wasn't the last one either.

After that, and being punished, she screamed bloody murder when it was time for us to leave.

And I mean, bloody murder.

It wasn't her normal crying, it was like she thought I was never coming back.

Which made me extra nervous about getting on a plane.

Weren't babies supposed to be prophetic or something?

But once I felt the wheels leave the ground, all was normal.

For me at least.

I stayed stiff as a board for the entire time, staring straight forward, clutching the seats arm rests.

I could only faintly recognize that Punk was talking, but had no idea what.

Apparently he was still grumbling about Rosie's 180 towards him.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little busy right now. Maybe you can be a whine-ass later." I snapped, not moving my body from it's tense position.

I did see, from the corner of my eye, Punk turn his head towards me.

"You are such a baby! Planes aren't any thing to be scared of."

I scoffed.

"I'm not afraid of planes."

Punk laughed.

"Then I must have been imagining the mental break down you had a few days ago. Does this ring a bell?" Punk paused, then continued with a bad impression of a crying me.

"'Punk no one would sit with me on the planes because I'm such a scaredy cat! Wah wah wah.'"

I dared a glance towards him, seeing a shit eating grin on his face through squinted eyes.

"Like I was saying," Punk started, recapping his entire conversation with me from moments before.

"Bec said it was because she was jealous." I shrugged.

Punk cocked a brow.

"I guess last time she was really upset when we left, and Bec said because you were telling me we had to leave, she got mad."

Punk made an 'ah' sound, and I continued.

"So when you showed up this time, and we were hanging out, it probably brought back some angry memories."

And that was it for a while.

Although, Punk remembered why it was a bad idea to hold my hand on a plane.

His blood circulation was cut off the instant my hand grasped his.

And despite his bitching and moaning, I didn't let go.

Not until we landed a few hours later.

"Seriously, you have to learn a new way to cope with your fear of flying. My hand still feels weird." Punk grumbled as we walked through the back doors of the arena in Puebla, Mexico.

We'd gotten to the arena just in time, despite landing almost an hour ago.

And I can assure, that hour did not go to waste.

I couldn't help but smile at him, and pull myself up to his lips.

"Eli!"

The instant the sound hit my eardrums I knew who it was.

And I knew she was coming barreling towards me.

I barely got time to turn around and watch her as she flew in the air and into my arms.

The two of us tumbled to the ground.

"What is wrong with you Kelly?" I grumbled, still feeling her embrace even on the floor.

She pulled back a second later, answering.

"I figured you'd need me to be extra best friend like." she trailed on with a smirk.

"So you tackle me?" I asked utterly confused by her actions.

Finally, she got up from on top of me, and helped me up too.

"It seemed like the right thing to do."

I tilted my head at her words, pondering it.

"Agreed."

She laughed, but my attention was already drawn back to Punk and the ring of his phone.

"That was Kofi. I got to go."

Damn Kofi and his best friend status.

I groaned.

"Alright. I'll see you later." I muttered stepping back over to him, and leaning up to kiss him.

I'd grown accustom to Punk being with me every waking moment, over the past few days.

In fact, his presence was keeping me calm.

So him leaving now made me nervous.

Sure, he was leaving me in the capable hands of Kelly; but she's no Punk.

As if sensing my raising anxiety, Punk brought his arms around me, and leaned down to whisper to me.

"You'll be fine."

It took a few more seconds for me to let him go.

But that was it before he left.

I turned back to a smirking Kelly.

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't worry, that'll be my second question." she paused as we started walking down the hallway.

"How's Jake?" she asked sheepishly.

Other then being the one to tell me about the accident, Kelly didn't hear anything else about Jakie's condition.

So I recapped the last few days for Kelly, avoiding the details of my own hospital visit.

"So what happened there?" Kelly asked, grabbing my arm with the stitches.

I groaned.

Of course she'd see it.

What was the point in hiding it?

Reluctantly, I told her about that too.

The short version.

There wasn't really any further talk about it, not once we were further into the arena.

Instead of having some privacy for this private conversation, we were more frequently being passed by crew members, and eventually fellow superstars and divas.

"Eli, what are you doing here?"

I heard my other friend's voice coming towards me.

It was Johnny.

"You're not on the card."

"I guess cause I was bored." I shrugged.

"Good, cause I need your help." Johnny stated, pulling me under his arm.

"If this has anything to do with Maxine, I'm out."

He sighed.

"Come on! It'll be easy! I promise!"

"No. I refuse to support your pursuit of a married woman."

I crossed my arms stubbornly, and stepped out from under his arm.

"Hey Kelly. Oh Eli you're back!"

It was that voice.

The one that was so cheerful, it made me want to shake babies.

"Let's go." I stated, turning to Johnny and grabbing his arm.

I pulled him down the nearest hallway, escaping the Kelly-AJ girl talk session.

"So what exactly do I have to do?" I grumbled to Johnny.

He smirked and put his arm back around my shoulder.

I had a feeling this was going to be a long couple of hours.


	49. Get Me Going Baby

**Hey all! Just an FYI, I laughed hysterically while writing this bit. So I expect you all to laugh just as hard. Thanks a bunch for the support! Also, I want to remind you all about the slight mishap in the chapters. But it has all been fixed. Go back and read the new chapter 45, Its Only Beats for You. And remember to review and have fun!**

**With love,**

**Skee.**

"Oh my god! I want these stitches out now dammit!" I groaned, still walking down the hallway with a pathetic Johnny.

We'd just finished trying to seduce Maxine and let's just say, it didn't work too well.

She'd caught on almost immediately.

And since I denied knowing anything about it, she spared me and punched Johnny right in the balls.

Granted, it was a hilarious sight and he deserved every second of it, but I had to feel bad for the guy.

Everyone hits him in the nuts.

"Quit your damn complaining." Johnny grumbled from my side.

I shot him a couple of raised brows.

"I'm sorry if my compassion for your itchy stitches is nonexistent. I just got punched in the balls."

"That happens everyday, you should be used to it by now."

Johnny let out a sarcastic laugh at my words.

"Curtis, you're up in five." A tech guy came up to us and said.

"Since when are you on Raw?"

Johnny shrugged.

"Since it's funner over here." I nodded.

He was right, Raw was the drama show of the four.

Smackdown was the wrestling show, and NXT and Superstars were the kids' show.

It was at that, that Johnny took his limping leave.

Leaving me to wander the halls alone.

And think.

Bad news.

Yay.

It was awesome that Punk and I were back together, but I'd left an anxious Randy behind.

I knew there was no way of getting away from him tomorrow at Smackdown, so whatever had to be done, it needed to be done tonight.

And the only thing I could think of, was to call him.

I pulled out my phone, and dialed his number.

Three rings later, it went to voice-mail.

Weird.

He always answered.

So again I called.

And again I got the same result.

So I tired a few more times, getting the same answer.

Eventually I stopped, feeling like a total stalker.

I was plopped down on the floor, staring intently at my phone, willing it to ring, when Kelly found me.

"What are you doing?" she asked, kicking me lightly with her ring boot.

I shrugged.

"Nothing. Just thinking about the mess I got myself into."

At that Kelly furrowed her brows.

I got up and we walked down the halls.

I explained said mess. But she didn't seem to get it.

"And now Randy's not answering any of my calls or texts. It's weird."

I could barely hear the laugh Kelly let out under her breath.

"What's so funny?"

"Let's just say, Randy's a little upset with you."

I furrowed my brows.

"What the hell did I do?"

She smiled wider.

"It's not so much what you did, but who."

Now I was confused.

"Ok Kel. Spill."

Again she let out a puff of laughter.

"The other day, while you were home, Randy found me and asked me how you were doing with the whole Jake thing. And being the good friend I am, I denied knowing anything about your mental status." she said the last two words with the utmost attitude and air quotes.

I rolled my eyes, and she continued as we walked deeper into the maze of the arena.

"So right then and there he called you. And let's just say, he wasn't too happy after that." she hinted.

And at what, I had no idea.

"What are you talking about?"

She smirked, stopping me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

She closed her eyes, and spoke.

Or should I say screamed.

"'Ah! Punk, hurry, faster! Ahhh!'"

Her voice echoed down the entire hallway to the tech guys.

Who obviously turned their heads.

In a split second a whole array of thoughts rushed through my head.

First it was, _what the hell is she doing_?

And, _why the hell is she moaning_?

Then, _why does that sound so familiar_?

Then finally, _WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?, w_hen it clicked.

I could feel my face turn several shades of pink, before settling on bright-ass red.

Instantly, I clapped one hand over her mouth, the other behind her head.

I'd practically jumped on her, and the both of us had to take some steps to steady ourselves.

Which put us against a few equipment boxes.

The two tech guys at the end of the hall kept watching us, probably in utter shock.

"What?" I yelled at them in a sharp voice.

The twosome jumped and scurried away.

I turned my attention back to Kelly who, through my hand, had the biggest smirk on.

"Coincidentally, that is now it ended." she muttered, pushing my hands away from her mouth.

"OH MY GOD! Are you serious?" I groaned at her answering nod.

"I was sitting right next to him."

My eyes retained their wide, and extremely embarrassed, shape.

"Holy crap. It all makes since now!" I muttered to myself.

That's why my phone went off twice that morning.

And why Randy wasn't answering my calls now.

For some reason, I felt so horrible right then.

Sure, now it made my life easier when I had to break things off with him.

But on some level I'd betrayed him.

I didn't like that feeling, why would anyone else?

Now I had even more reason to talk to him.

But I put my phone away.

It was no use calling him another thousand times if he was determined to ignore me.

I'd just have to see him tomorrow.

From there Kelly and I kept walking, she did a pretty decent job of keeping me from feeling too bad about it.

"Elijia!"

There were very few people who knew that name, and even fewer who dared to call me it.

Since the only other person with the balls to call me Elijia was standing next to me, I had to assume it was Punk.

I turned and was right.

Punk walked the few strides towards Kelly and I, and didn't hesitate swooping in to kiss me.

Nice and long.

Once he pulled away, Kelly spoke.

"So I see you learned her first name, finally." Punk laughed and nodded.

I just crossed my arms.

"Did you learn her middle name?"

Kelly had barely finished her sentence before I spoke.

"NO!"

More like screamed.

My voice even cracked a little.

I could see Punk's face from the corner of my eye; it in a stunned formation.

Kelly, whom I was staring at already, looked less surprised and more unimpressed.

She was about to talk when Johnny came barreling around the corner, stopping just in front of us, panting.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"I came as soon as I heard!" Johnny said between gasps for air.

The three of us just held the same WTF look until he continued.

"Eli, Kelly, moaning. I swore to myself I wouldn't miss it, not again!" Johnny huffed again.

I didn't need to look at Kelly to see her wearing the same expression as me.

Wide eyed.

"Wait what?" Punk asked next to me.

"It was nothing." I stated, eying Johnny with wide eyes.

"No no. I want to hear about this. You and Kelly were moaning in the hallway together?"

"The guys who told me said they were all over each other."

Punk cocked a brow at me at Johnny's words.

"Yeah, I just figured they'd finally decided to stop pretending that the last time didn't happen."

"There was a last time?" Punk asked, thoroughly intrigued by Johnny's story.

"Tell me about this last time!"

Johnny opened his mouth to start down memory lane, when Kelly's voice was heard over all.

"Her middle name is Zoelyn!"

I shot her a pair of furrowed brows and a dropped jaw.

Before I could kick her ass she grabbed Johnny and disappeared around a corner.

Another second later we heard a yelp from their direction.

I could only assume it was Johnny.

I couldn't help but smile.


	50. One Part Angel One Part Danger

"Punk, I'm serious. I need to talk to you. It's important!"

But it wasn't much use trying to stop him now.

With his lips searing across my neck, hands trailing up and down my denim wrapped thighs.

We were back at the hotel, and this was the after dinner special.

Not that I minded.

"If it's so important, then tell me now." Punk mumbled against my skin.

I had to blink a few times before I could remember what I was supposed to tell him.

"Randy heard us the other morning."

That got Punk to pop his head up, with narrowed eyes.

He didn't have to say what he was thinking, I already knew.

_Which morning?_

"When Bec's mom came over."

It was a millisecond later, and Punk wore a smug smirk; slightly nodding his head.

"Well when my phone went off, it wasn't the alarm, it was Randy calling me. And instead of hitting ignore, I apparently, hit the answer button. He heard the whole thing."

Punk's reaction wasn't one I was expecting.

He busted out laughing.

"It's not funny!"

"Yeah it is!" he managed out.

He started to sit up, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling him to see if he wants to come watch this time."

My jaw dropped.

"What? No! Don't do that!"

I grabbed Punk's phone from him, but he kept on laughing.

"I was just kidding. I wasn't actually going to do it."

He smirked that smirk that said 'believe me' but I knew better then that.

He was an evil, evil man.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and threw his phone into the arm chair next to the bed.

Time to get back to business.

I smirked as I pulled Punk by the shirt back to me.

He didn't miss a beat, and was right back to kissing me all over.

"Oh there is one last thing."

That earned me a groan.

Like the obnoxious ones I was so famous for.

But from Punk.

"What now woman!" He asked, sitting back on his knees.

I couldn't help but crack a grin at his tone.

Anxious.

"I have to go talk to him."

My words wiped all ease from Punk's features.

Instantly, his brows furrowed, and his hazel eyes were put on guard.

He was not happy with that idea.

"Uh, two things." he started.

"Not now." he paused, taking a quick breath.

"and not ever."

He gave me his 'tough shit' look.

The one that said, 'I'm the man, and I say no', despite his feminist beliefs.

I sat up, and crossed my arms over my chest; brows raised high.

The next moment of communication was via staring contest.

It lasted only a few more seconds before Punk glanced away.

I'd won that battle.

"Why the hell do you have to talk to him?" he grumbled, crossing his own arms over his chest.

I forced back the tiniest of smirks at his obviously jealous demeanor.

I thought his question over, and shrugged.

"I don't know. But leaving it all like this doesn't feel right."

Punk just gave me a cocked brow like I was a crazy person.

I sighed.

"Basically, I have to break up with him."

He sighed, not able to hide the evil smirk across his face.

As much as he didn't want me to be anywhere near him, Punk couldn't help but relish in the fact that I was going to break up with Randy.

But right now, Randy was the last thing on Punk's mind.

Mine too.

He sat there, arms still crossed, tapping the pads of his fingers along his elbow.

I smirked and flopped onto my back, my hands behind my head.

Punk cocked a brow at my comfy position.

"What, did you already finish?" I asked coyly, letting my smirk grow slowly across my face.

Punk scoffed, taking off his shirt.

I couldn't stop my hands from meeting the flesh of his stomach.

As he leaned his body over mine, my hands slid up his smooth belly to his chest.

There was a definite tickle against my palms.

I got little time to revel in the feel of the tiny hair against my hands, when Punk's lips came down on mine.

Gently at first, but the more I shifted my hands on his chest, the more fervent the kiss became.

My hands slid over his shoulders, up his neck; I could feel the beginning of scruff at his jaw.

I pulled my lips away, hoping to get some air in my lungs, when I spoke.

"Hey, Punk."

It was a whisper, but I was right next to his ear.

He heard it.

Another second without a response, I spoke again.

This time, lightly pushing against his shoulders.

I heard him groan lightly, but he pulled back an arms length anyways, wearing furrowed brows and frustrated set to his jaw.

"Elijia Zoelyn Strong." He paused, looking down at me with some serious crazy eyes.

His hands were pressing into the mattress on either side of me, holding him above me.

I widened my eyes at his use of my full name.

"I swear. If you make me stop one more time..." he trailed on.

The beginning of his idle threat, peeked my curiosity.

He didn't wait for me to respond, just lowered his lips back to my neck.

But as the seconds passed, I couldn't help but wonder what he'd do if I stopped again.

I took a deep breath and pressed my hands against his shoulders again.

I think I had a death wish.

"Seriously woman?" Punk grumbled as he sat back on his knees.

"What?"

I could barely contain my smirk at the utter impatience in his tone.

I sat up too, reaching around my back, under my shirt.

"I wanted to tell you something very important." I teased, as I slyly unhooked my bra.

The second the contraption came unclasped, I looked to Punk.

When he noticed exactly what I was doing, his whole attitude changed.

Now, he waited patiently for what I was going to do next.

In one swift movement, I pulled my bra and shirt over my head and quickly placed it on the bed next to me.

Punk didn't even let me get out one word before his hands were making their way up my stomach.

Quickly, I grabbed his hands, intertwining my fingers with his.

I sat up on my knees, keeping his hands with mine, and pressed my forehead to his.

"I love you." I whispered against his lips.

I would never get tired of saying that, and by the look on his face, he'd never get tired of hearing it either.

He wasted no time pushing me back against the mattress, keeping our hands above my head.

He'd managed to slither one hand away from me; to where, I don't know.

But I would soon enough.

It was a few seconds later, I felt a smooth cloth wrap around my wrists.

I had to blink a few times before I was able to use words.

"I told you," Punk started, finishing tying the knot to where the headboard met the mattress.

"If you made me stop again..."

I could barely hear him over the pounding in my ears.

And the intensity in his hazel eyes proved an adequate distraction.

I pulled at the cloth that confined my hands above me, it didn't budge one bit.

I tilted my head back, looking at what held me so tightly; it the shirt I just discarded.

Maybe I should stop assuming his threats are empty?

I shot Punk a narrowed glance, one he wasn't too concerned about with me tied up and all.

I swore to myself I'd get him back.

But the instant his fingers touched my skin again, all thoughts of vengeance left me; my senses were filled with the burning ache to touch his smooth, velvet skin.


	51. My Kind of Crazy

**Hey all! Sorry about the far and few between chapters. I'm putting them out as fast as I can! =) So remember, have fun and review!**

**With love,**

**Skee**

"So then aliens came down from outer space and killed us all. The end."

I faintly heard Kelly say.

But the meaning of her words never penetrating my skull.

I just kept looking down at my lap, zoning out.

"You're not listening." Her words just now grasping my attention.

I tore my eyes up from my wrists, forcing my hands to cease the light rubbing the reddened flesh.

"Sorry Kelly. What are you talking about?" I asked.

Aside from the ache of my wrists, I had a huge weight on my shoulders.

Tonight I had to talk to Randy.

I had no idea what I was going to say.

Or even how I'd approach him.

So talking and eating my early lunch with my best friend was a little hard.

"Who gives a damn what I was saying, what the hell happened to your wrists?" She asked, reaching across the table and grabbing my hands.

She looked down at the redish skin, brows furrowed, jaw slightly dropped.

I repressed the grin that was sneaking up on me.

Yesterday, when I told her about the cutting, Kelly started acting extra sensitive.

And in a creepy way.

She would stare at me all the time.

Everything I did, her eyes were glued to me.

She was probably trying to make sure I didn't find a substitute for cutting.

But when we were around Johnny, things got weird.

Since Johnny opened his fat mouth to Punk yesterday, I'd made a point to keep them far, far apart.

But tonight would be tricky.

Me and Kelly had a very important, battle royal.

That left Punk and Johnny unattended for a good twenty minutes.

Long enough for Johnny to utter the story we all agreed would never be spoken again.

Punk was determined to find out what it was and I was determined to make sure he never did.

Kelly just looked up at me and the smirk I tried so hard to hide.

I took a deep breath and looked Kelly in the eye.

"That is not something you should be worrying about."

I let my lips form a tiny smile, enough to let her know it wasn't anything serious.

Her eyes narrowed at me, but she took my word for it.

Smart her.

We only got a few more minutes of girl time before Punk found us.

He pressed his lips to mine softly.

When he pulled away, he caught a glimpse of my wrists.

"Wow, that's really red huh?" Punk's voice was nonchalant, but I could tell by the smirk sneaking up on his face he was proud of himself.

I just narrowed my eyes at him.

"As cute as you two are, the fact that you're disgustingly satisfied with yourself looking at her new friction burns makes me more then a little sick." Kelly paused, pointing at us along the way.

"So, you need to leave."

I laughed.

In all actuality, she was right.

I had a promotional media event on the local, lunchtime radio show.

And I couldn't be late.

With a few parting words, Punk and I were headed out the door.

"Is she going to be ok here by herself?" Punk asked as we headed to his rental car in the parking lot.

"Johnny should be here in a few minutes. She'll be fine."

I plopped down in the passenger seat a few seconds later, and was met with Punk's furrowed brows.

"What?"

"It seems like you guys are trying to keep me and Johnny apart..." he trailed on.

I scoffed.

"No." I said, shifting in my seat.

Of course that's what it was.

But it would defeat the purpose of the secret if we didn't.

Punk narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Does this have anything to do with that secret you and Kelly have?"

Again I scoffed.

"No! And Kelly and I have lots of secrets. We're best friends. Duh. Silly goose."

Again I shifted in my seat.

"Are we going to go? I have to be there on time." I said, quickly changing the subject.

I quickly broke eye contact, hearing a chuckle come from the driver's seat.

I glanced down at my wrists.

They weren't as bad as one would think; only slightly pink.

But that annoying sting I got every single moment was about to drive me up the wall.

And it was all thanks to him.

I thought, turning my head to eye Punk, driving.

"I don't really appreciate that." I started, earning me a cocked brow from my afternoon chauffeur.

"And what would 'that' be?" he asked, a smirk on his face, but keeping an eye on the road all the while.

"I have friction burns!" I reminded him.

Kelly was right; he was disgustingly satisfied with himself.

He replied with a chuckle.

"If you would quit wiggling, you wouldn't have any friction burns!"

Dammit.

He was right.

"What are you some army knot tier?" I muttered, resisting the urge to laugh.

And by the sideways glance he gave me, I was betting he didn't remember this one.

"That's bad, even for you."

I dropped my jaw.

"Me? You're the one who said it!"

He seemed shocked at my words.

So I was right, he didn't remember.

That's ok.

I didn't want to either.

"What? When did I say that?"

I laughed.

"Last fall. You were mad at my Devil shorts and couldn't untie the knot."

It was a few seconds later that he remembered.

It was written all over his face.

"I'm surprised you didn't remember that gem." I said sarcastically.

"Hey! You were throwing sex in my face! I would have said anything!" Punk grumbled while I laughed.


	52. I Can't Mend These Broken Bones

My lunchtime media went swimmingly, or as swimmingly as my stereotypical American ignorance would allow.

But now it was all business.

I paced the small space in front of my bag in the locker room, for what could very well have been an hour.

I'd put off thinking about this all day, but now that I was dressed in my ring gear, and was in the same building, I couldn't put it off any more.

But I had no idea what I was doing.

Yeah, Randy and I hadn't actually been a couple to begin with.

The first time or second.

But up until Punk, that was the closest I'd ever gotten.

And it didn't change the fact that I'd loved him.

Or that I knew how bad he must be feeling.

He'd done the same thing to me the first time around; left without a second thought.

It almost killed me.

But after drowning myself in ridiculous amounts of alcohol and sex, Punk was the one who dragged me out.

I knew I couldn't be the one to save Randy from the heartache that would come, and I knew an explanation wouldn't make it go away.

But in the long run, closure would be worth it.

Suddenly, my feet stopped.

It was time.

There was still an hour or so until the show's start, and I sure as hell didn't want to be the first person he talked to after his match tonight.

Especially if he lost.

I forced myself to move out of the locker room, and through the halls.

I wondered aimlessly for a little bit, trying his cell one last time.

No answer.

It was a few minutes later that I reached his dressing room.

With a sigh, I knocked.

"It's open."

I heard from the other side.

At least he sounded calm.

Slowly, I pushed the door open and slipped into the room.

It wasn't until the door finally clicked shut that Randy looked up at me.

By the look on his face, he wasn't too surprised to see me.

Although, I bet he didn't want to at all.

He didn't stop his stretching on the floor when he spoke.

"What do you want?"

I let out a puff of laughter.

"I would hope by the mass of calls and texts I sent you, that'd be kind of obvious."

I tried to keep the mood lighthearted, but the look he shot me forced all that away.

Utter betrayal.

With just enough anger to mask the heartache, from everyone else but me.

I knew him too damn well.

"Look, Randy, Kelly told me about the phone call the other day..." I trailed on.

Thus started the twenty-five minute conversation that I never wanted to have.

Ranging from 'why did you do this to me' to 'why him'.

And I couldn't really think of a good answer for either.

I could think of snappy, sarcastic, non-helpful answers that would just escalate the situation.

But not any actual, useful ones.

On top of this being a conversation I didn't want, it was one I didn't know how to have.

Randy had been my best friend for so long, hurting him wasn't something I could do.

But breaking the news to him gently wasn't working either.

It seemed, the more I beat around the bush, the more frustrated he got.

And finally, it all came to an end.

"Randy, I may not want to lose you, but I don't want you to hate me." I quoted, using his words from weeks prior.

It was the first real conversation we'd had in almost a year.

And my use of it now wasn't just bullshit.

I meant it.

The past few weeks, he'd been a completely different person.

And I didn't want to miss out on knowing him.

But Randy wasn't a person who easily forgave.

It was a few minutes later, I sighed.

His silence, I'd taken, as him ending the conversation.

And without another word, I left.

It'd taken everything I had not to let a tear or two, or sob, escape in there.

But now that I was in the hall, there was nothing stopping me.

I felt horrible.

I flipped the hood to my leather ring jacket over my head, the end coming to just over my eyes.

I let myself walk around for a few minutes, arms crossed, head down, feet scuffing along the floor, and silently cried.

It was the only way I could let out the sheer awfulness I was feeling.

Either that or give into the choking burn rising in my throat, wearing on my tender control.

It was only a few minutes until show time, and the hallways were starting to fill with Superstars.

I was rounding a corner, and my eyes shifted upwards.

I was ok with walking by the other crew members and fellow competitors, but when I saw Punk walking down the hall that all changed.

Quickly, I stuffed myself back behind the corner.

Desperately trying to wipe away the evidence of my weeping.

I pushed the hood back onto my shoulders, straightened out, and came around that corner like the usual, cocky bastard I was.

I don't know how he does it.

Know me that well.

I'd taken three steps from around the corner, and was in his line of vision for five seconds.

Already, he knew I'd been crying.

Although Kofi was completely oblivious to it.

Another moment, and Kofi was off running towards where R-Truth would be, to confer on their tag team match tonight.

"So what's got you all upset?"

I cocked a brow at him.

"Eli. A monkey could see that you were crying."

I laughed.

"There goes your monkey." I muttered, pointing at a retreating Kofi.

"Hey now." Punk started with a smirk.

"Don't insult the other monkeys."

It was another few moments of laughing, then Punk asked again.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

I sighed, leaning my head against chest; his arm over my shoulders.

"I talked to Randy." I confessed.

We'd continued walking while we laughed before.

And as we kept walking, I gave Punk the cliff notes version of the conversation.


	53. Frozen Solid

**Hey all! Sorry for the last two weeks! Busy summer indeed! But don't worry, I'm back. And so are the updates. So, remember, review and have fun! **

**Skee. **

Tonight's Raw was a big night for everyone.

Pops was returning for his annual brawl.

So obviously we'd need the biggest, baddest, arena around.

Madison Square Garden.

But right now I was more concerned with surviving until tonight.

I'd spent the majority of my day running around with Johnny doing some sort of media, but now it was my prep time.

I'd just finished at the gym, and was waiting for the elevator doors to open.

I froze when they did.

None other then Randy was on the other side.

I just stared at him for a moment, until a stuttered 'hi' came from my lips.

But I didn't get a reply, barely even any recognition.

He just glanced down at me with those icy blues.

Not an awkward smile or even a nod.

Just pushed past me towards the gym.

I stayed there blinking at the back of the elevator.

The doors stayed open for a while, long enough for me to step in after

I'd finally composed myself.

I couldn't get the image of his cold glare out of my head.

I stayed like that, somber and detached for a while after.

Standing in the shower of my hotel room was when I'd finally snapped out of it.

Sort of.

I knew he'd take a while to get over it, but I didn't think that Randy would completely ignore me.

It hurt, knowing the man you once loved hated every fiber of your being.

But I bet it hurt knowing the girl you fought so hard to get back, doesn't want you.

For some reason, it broke my heart.

For a professional wrestler, I hated to hurt people.

It's actually kind of wussy.

I stare down at the textured shower floor, the warm water rushing over the back of my head; hair plastered to my face.

"Babe, seriously. You've been in here for almost an hour."

I heard Punk say from the crack in the door.

I'd actually kind of forgotten he was in the other room.

I walked in in such a daze, I hardly noticed him.

And I'd been in here so long without him, I just figured he'd left.

I watched as the door's shadow on the white shower curtain grew, then disappeared.

"Sorry. I had no idea." I mumbled.

There was a silence.

"What's wrong?" Punk's voice was sweet and soothing.

But I really didn't want to talk about this with him.

It was weird.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

Ugh.

I hated the way lies slipped off my tongue.

They always left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Eli. I wasn't born yesterday. Tell me."

I wasn't surprised that he caught that one.

He was good at that.

"You don't want to know." I muttered, mostly expecting him not to hear it.

But of course, he did.

"I doubt that."

There was a light bang from where Punk was, peeking my curiosity as to what he was doing.

I poked my head out from behind the curtain to find him sitting on the vanity, a light smile on his face. I sighed and pushed the curtain back.

"Eli..." he trailed on impatiently.

I groaned.

Damn, he was persistent.

And, dare I say, annoying?

I blinked.

No, not annoying.

Just worrisome.

Frankly, everyone was lately.

"It's about Randy."

My voice was soft.

I really didn't want him to hear me.

"What did he do?" Punk's tone of voice changed immediately at the mention of Randy.

"Nothing. I just saw him on my way back from the gym..." I trailed on, starting to feel the sting of tears in my eyes. I sniffled, trying to stifle the tears.

"Are you crying?" his voice seemed shocked.

"No!" I yelled, furiously wiping the evidence from my face.

There was the same light bang from moments before, Punk had just hopped down from the sink.

Instantly, my hand went to the curtain, pressing it tight against the wall.

I knew he was going to try and open it, and when he did it wouldn't budge.

He didn't try again after the first try.

And I thought, maybe, he'd leave it at that.

Of course I was wrong.

Barely a moment later, the other end of the curtain was ripped open.

Dammit.

I'd forgotten that shower curtains could do that.

"I got soap in my eye." I sniffled again, seeing the worried look on his face with the tiniest of grins.

As I stood there, pretending to try and get something out of my eye, stark naked, he just held his hands out with that face that is so loving, yet laughing at me at the same time.

There was no way I could resist the sanctuary of his arms then.

And I didn't try.

I stood there, my face on his shoulder, crying, still in technically in the shower, recounting him my encounter with Randy.

"What makes you think I didn't want to hear that?" Punk asked gently, lightly stroking my wet hair. I sniffled again, pausing.

"Because I still kinda, want him as a friend. I guess?" I could feel that Punk didn't like that one bit. All the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed.

"Is that why you're so upset?"

His voice wasn't the same soothing lull it was moments before.

Now he just sounded sad.

I sniffled again, feeling a new round of stinging tears build up in my eyes.

I nodded slowly, feeling his jaw tighten against my forehead.

Wow. I was probably the worst girl friend on the face of the planet.

And that thought was what pushed the choking sob out of my throat; the hot tears down my face.

"Oh, baby."

Instantly, all those clenched muscles, relaxed, hugging me tightly.

It was a few moments later, after I calmed down enough to breathe properly, that Punk spoke.

"You know what we should do?"

I grunted my response against his neck.

I felt the small chuckle rise up his throat.

"After we get you out of this shower, we should go lay down, and you can tell me about all the fun things we're going to do on our date night tomorrow."

That got me to raise my head off his shoulder, brows furrowed.

"Since when do we do a 'date night'?" he smirked at my question.

"Well, since the last one was so much fun, I figured we should have another."

There was a slight pause, and his smirk turned sincere, not just playful.

"Plus, I figured it would be a fun way to snap you out of this funk."

I couldn't help but smile, kissing him lightly on the lips.


	54. Only Fear Itself

One of the great things about Punk, was that I could lay half naked in bed with him, and he wouldn't instantly want sex.

Granted, he did later.

But that was after we spent close to an hour talking about how awesome our date was going to be.

We ended up being late to tonight's show, and management wasn't exactly happy about that.

Oh well.

I was just leaving the Diva's locker room, about to go for a quick jog around the arena, when I heard my name from down the hall.

It was from a voice I could never quite get out of my head, especially when I was doing something stupid.

When I turned, I was less then surprised to see Pop's walking towards me.

He was dressed in his old ring gear.

"Kiddo. Where you headed off to?" he asked, his voice the usual low baritone sending shivers down the spine of whoever was in ear shot.

Including myself.

It was the effect he had on people.

But underneath it all, he really wasn't that intimidating like every would think.

When he finally reached me, he placed his forearm on my head, his hand dangling in front of my face; using me as an armrest.

He was almost two feet taller then me.

"I was headed off on a quick run." I answered.

But our small talk didn't last long before I asked the question that was burning on everyone's mind.

"So who's going to be your latest victim at Wrestlemania?"

I was too giddy for my own good, hoping like hell he'd tell me this time.

But he just smirked, and shook his head.

"Who knows?"

I groaned.

That's the usual answer I got.

"Hey, maybe it'll be your little boyfriend? That'd be fun." he muttered the last bit, keeping his smirk.

He seemed to relish in the thought of kicking the crap out of Punk.

It prompted my cocked brow.

"Since when did you start thinking that?"

I tried to keep my tone light, mostly succeeding.

But there was a hint of actual shock in my voice.

Last I knew, Pops loved Punk.

He just shrugged, and left it at that.

"Oh, there is something I wanted to tell you before all the commotion tonight." Pops started, sounding not entirely himself.

I glanced up at him, his lips in a hard line.

I guess it was something he didn't really want to say.

It worried me.

"After Wrestlemania this year, I'm retiring."

Instantly, I froze, stopping dead in my tracks in the middle of the hallway.

Pops just looked down at me, my jaw dropped to the floor in utter shock.

"Really? Why?" I asked, my voice squeaking, still in shock.

He shrugged.

"Eli. I'm pushing fifty. I'm getting too old for this."

He ran a hand through his long black hair as he said it.

"So who are you going to pick for your final show?" I asked again.

Pops just laughed, and shook his head.

"Oh come on! It has to be someone huge!"

But the old man just kept on laughing and left me standing in the middle of the hall.

"Seriously, you're going to leave it like that?" I yelled down the hall.

He just waved as he turned the corner.

I grumbled for a few minutes, idly following him around the corner.

"Hey partner."

A voice came and jumped me.

Tonight I had a mixed tag team match.

And my partner was none other then the Show Off himself.

Dolph Ziggler.

I was actually kind of excited.

It'd been so long since I was on the same team as Dolph.

But of course there was one major draw back.

I got to have Vickie Guerrero yelling in my ear the whole match.

Dolph slung his arm over my shoulders, reminding me that I had to get ready for that match.

I was to go head to head with Layla.

And she was always a strong competitor.

"Hey to you too. Are you ready for our match. You've got quite the opponent tonight." I asked, smacking the back of my hand against his chest.

He smirked.

"Cena isn't going to know what hit him."

I smirked too.

But for two reasons.

One because, Dolph was a damn good athlete.

And two, because Dolph was too cocky for his own good.

That's why we get along so well.

Just like he says, it isn't showing off if you can back it up.

And the both of us can.

"Have you even started warming up yet? Our match is in less then an hour." Dolph asked, looking down at me with a cocked brow.

I sighed.

"I was about too." I stated, using a playful attitude.

He laughed.

"Whatever, just get on it!"

As he spoke, he backed away, pointing at me all the while.

Like an idiot.

I shook my head and tore off down the hall.


	55. Out With a Bang

Dammit Dolph.

I'd told him before we started the match, not to fool around too much.

But of course, he didn't listen.

He'd spent more time doing head stands and sit ups instead of getting business done.

And the last show off attempt cost us the match.

All John ever needs is a split second, and he can turn it all around.

The second that happened, I knew it was over.

I even tried to help, in a last gasp attempt to save our match.

But that just started a side brawl with Layla.

John ended up getting the pin anyways.

Vickie was off screaming bloody murder on the other end of the ring.

Damn she was annoying.

Once the bell rang, Layla left me to join John in the ring.

Fists raised high.

I caught Dolph as he rolled to the apron, trying not to yell at him.

We were both pissed enough.

He took another second to catch his breath, when all of a sudden, the lights in the arena went out.

Then I heard it.

The strike of the gong that causes every superstar to freeze in terror.

I looked to the ring, and in the flash of light that accompanied the gong, there was just John.

I stared at the ring still, my vision obscured by the darkness.

And as the next gong hit, and the light flash, I saw him.

The all intimidating Undertaker.

That man, in the ring, wasn't my Pops.

He was the bone chilling, demon from Death Valley.

He stood behind John, who was staring straight at the stage.

The darkness hit again, then the light flashed.

In that split second, John was the clutch of my teacher.

The lights came back on fully, and millions of people, in the arena and at home, watched as John Cena was thrust in the air by his throat, and slammed down into the mat.

The deadman had selected his quarry.

There was no getting out of it now.

The gong continued as the phenom exited the ring, to the backstage.


	56. Sweet Thing

The plane ride from New York was a treat.

And by a treat, I mean I got to sit eyes squeezed shut for two hours.

There was quite the thunder storm raging below us as we flew over West Virginia.

Fuck turbulence.

But it was sweet though, having Punk next to me graciously holding my hand as I grasp his for dear life.

He didn't complain when we landed either.

It was just us, walking through the huge airport in Memphis, Tennessee.

And I mean that literally.

It was pushing 2 AM. No one was here.

We'd left New York early to get a jump start on our date tomorrow.

Since we'd be running around the country again tomorrow night, Punk thought it'd be better to spend all day, fucking around.

Then maybe we'd go shopping, or out to eat or something.

But that meant bed right away.

I was still reeling from Pops' announcement, and the painful plane ride.

Plus, I was hungry.

"Please Punk!" I pleaded to him while we waited outside the building for our cab.

His arms arms were around me as I looked up at him with my puppy dog look.

"No. Every time we go there, you eat way too much and get sick."

He was using his stern voice.

So he was playing hard ball, huh?

I had to repress cocking my brow as I accepted his challenge.

My smirk was harder to hide.

Smoothly, I ran my hands from around his waist to his stomach.

His response was almost immediate; sucking in a breath as my fingers touched his t-shirt.

My hands kept their slow climb up his torso stopping, just below my chin, in the middle of his chest.

I stepped up on my tippy toes, closing our foot tall gap in height by at least six inches.

I reiterated my words at a whisper this time.

He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously knowing my trick, but nevertheless, he caved.

"That's got to be assault with a deadly weapon." he muttered, as I reached up and kissed him quickly.

I was standing against him, bouncing with joy when the cab pulled the the curb in front of us.

Quickly, the driver came out and put our bags in the trunk, and we hopped in.

"Where to?" he asked, glancing back at us in the mirror.

"The closest Waffle House my good sir!" I announced in my fake English accent.

Punk just put his hand over his eyes, and shook his head.

The driver furrowed his brows in my direction, looking thoroughly confused, but pulled away from the curb anyways.

And even though Punk was embarrassed by my playfulness, he still leaned over and kissed my mad-grinning face.


	57. Some Dreams Come True

I jolted awake the next morning, my phone ringing on the night stand next to me.

I glanced at the clock, it reading 8AM.

I'd ended up falling asleep only three hours ago.

I grumbled as I leaned over and checked the caller ID.

Corporate Head Quarters.

This should be fun.

"Hello?"

My voice was raw from sleep.

"Eli, Hunter here."

I groaned.

"What do you want?"

He paused at my aggressive tone.

"I catch you at a bad time?" he asked, almost timidly, but still had a edge of authority.

"Yeah, it's the ass crack of dawn. I was sleeping. And the last time this happened, I got suspended. So I'll ask again, what do you want Hunter?" I snapped.

But my boss didn't miss a beat.

"Well you better wake up then. You need to be here by ten."

That snapped me awake real fast.

"What? Why?"

I heard Punk grumble next to me.

"We need to discuss your up coming contract expiration."

I froze.

Right, my contract expired in a few weeks.

But why were they just getting to that now?

"And Vince and I would much rather have that conversation in person."

That didn't sound like reassurance in his voice, more like, dare I say, deceit.

I really had to fly all the way to Connecticut right now.

"I wont be able to get there by ten. I have to book a flight."

I rubbed my eyes, stretching my limbs, but still laying down.

"Don't you worry about that. It's on the house."

I could hear the smirk on his face over the phone.

That's when mine beeped.

I had an email.

I took a quick second to look, it was from corporate; a first class plane ticket that left in forty five minutes.

I rolled my eyes.

I guess I was really doing this.

Punk was not going to be happy.

"Alright. I'll be there at ten."

At that I hung up, turning my head back to Punk.

He was turned towards me, eyes slitted open.

"Who was that?" he rasped, making me smile.

"Management. They want me to go to headquarters today." I whispered, reaching over and petting his rapid growing beard.

It was almost back to normal.

His brow furrowed.

"Tell them no. We have plans."

I sighed.

"It's about my contract. I kind of have to go."

He groaned and turned onto his back, putting his arm over his eyes.

"I shouldn't be gone too long. 1-ish, maybe?"

I knew he wasn't going to be happy.

He kept quiet for a few more, painful moments.

"Punker?"

I was starting to feel awkward with the conversation just hanging there.

"I'm trying to figure out a way you can make this up to me."

He kept his eyes covered, but there was a tiny hit of a smirk on his lips.

It took a second for me to catch up.

I smiled, sitting up and swinging a leg over his stomach to straddle him.

Once he felt me sitting on him, he lifted him arm.

And sucked in a hard breath at my naked chest.

Like I said, we had a long night.

"And if you get stuck, you can just think about this."

I smirked dangerously, leaning down to his throat, and trailing wet kisses down his front.

Over his chest I went, feeling the brush of the dark hair starting to grow there too.

Further south I ventured, between his pecks; I repressed a giggle as I kissed them.

"Don't even say it." Punk muttered breathlessly, reading my mind.

I smirked wider, but didn't stop kissing my way down him.

"I wouldn't dream of it." I whispered as I trailed down his abs, to his lovely stomach.

I spread kisses on every letter of his "straight edge" tattoo, and his belly button, until I found my mark.

It was just below his belly button, the edge his abs made against his belly.

I kissed is once, then twice.

I let my tongue trace circles over it before I drew the skin into my mouth.

I felt every muscle tense, as he realized what I was doing.

"Eli." he warned, his tone rough; lodging his hand into my hair and gripping tight.

I mirrored him, but with my teeth and his skin.

I heard him take a sharp breath, his grip tighter on my hair.

It was another few seconds when I released his flesh.

I left it with a few light kisses, then made my way back up to his lips.

His hand in my hair eased out, and down my back to my hips.

"Bye." I muttered against his lips, kissing him lightly once more before jumping onto the floor.

I skipped over to my suitcase, and slipped on some underwear and a bra.

"Boy, do I have plans for you..." Punk trailed on as I pulled on the rest of my clothes; plain black tee, and horribly ripped jeans.

I turned back towards him, beaming him with my white smile as I brushed through my recently-fucked hair.

I watched Punk, as he took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment, then releasing his own breath taking smile.

I did the same thing.

Took in a sharp breath, and held it, not wanting it to leave me for thoughts that the image in front of me might leave me too.

I willed myself to take another breath, and finish brushing my hair.

After that, and a quick run in with my tooth brush, I was back next to the bed.

"Do you really have to leave?" he asked, pouting.

I traced my hand down the side of his head from his hair, to his cheek.

"Unfortunately."

My frown mimicked his.

I leaned down and kissed him lightly.

As I pulled back, his hand caught me, holding me just above him.

"Come back in one piece. Please."

I stared back into his hazel eyes, seeing absolute sincerity in his plea.

It hurt my heart.

My lack of self regard made so many people worry.

I nodded, and leaned down and kissed him one last time.

I went back to my suitcase, finding my winter boots.

It was early March, and there was a lot of puddles on the ground.

I slipped them on, and went to the chair for my jacket and sweatshirt.

Or should I say Punk's sweatshirt, the one he gave me when we were in Jersey.

Right next to it, sprawled on the back of the chair, was Punk's most recent sweatshirt, The Swellers.

I wasn't too sure who they were, he listened to so much music, but looking at it I realized one thing.

I must have it.

Tentatively, I grabbed it and started pulling it on.

"What are you doing?" Punk asked, I looked over my shoulder seeing him leaning against the headboard, watching me.

I shrugged and finished pulling on the sweatshirt.

"That's not your sweatshirt..." he trailed on.

Again, I shrugged.

Then proceeded to pull on my leather jacket.

I turned around, about to leave.

Punk was just staring at me, eyes narrowed.

I stared back, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"That's strike three, baby. Now you're going to get it."

I couldn't help the smirk that crept onto my lips. I walked over and leaned down to kiss him one last time.

He graciously accepted my kiss.

I pulled back reluctantly, and strode towards the door.

I couldn't stop myself from turning back towards him, a smirk on my lips.

"Oh, there was one last thing I forgot to do."

I walked slowly back over to Punk on the bed, and leaned down, hovering over his face, resting my hands on his pecks.

He smirked back at me like he knew what I was going to do.

I repressed a laugh.

I closed my eyes, and gradually leaned my lips down towards him once again.

But instead of actually touching, I squeezed his pecks in my hands.

"Boobies."

I barely had time to react after I said it, Punk wet to grab me but I slipped away.

He jumped up and chased me all the way to the hotel room door, I screamed as I ran away.

I was finally in the safety of the very public hallway, when I looked back at him.

He was scowling at me.

"You're so damn lucky I'm naked..." he muttered, his eyes narrowed at me again.

I smirked and waved back at him sweetly as I waited for the elevator.


	58. Not Your Average Day at the Office

Wow.

Note to self, never travel via plane without luggage.

I was stopped by TSA while trying to board my flight at the Memphis International Airport, because they thought I was a terrorist.

I had to explain that I was headed to Connecticut for a meeting.

After a while they believed me, and let me get on my plane.

I actually landed in New York state, I guess it was the closest airport to Headquarters.

I wasn't off the plane for ten minutes when I was graced with a text from Punk.

_Look at what you've done..._

There was a picture attachment.

It was of the hickey I'd given him before I'd left.

And boy was it red.

I was about to send a reply, when my phone beeped for an email again.

That read, _Your ride should be out front. Black town car. _

It was from Hunter.

I stepped out side, and right across the street was a black town car, and a driver standing in front of it with a sign reading, _Strong_.

Once I was inside it, and we were headed down the road, I sent Punk a reply.

_A job well done. If I say so myself. _

It was a few seconds later that I got my reply.

_Get back here and I'll show you a job well done. So done, that you wont be walking for a week._

Well then.

I could feel my face turn red, but I wasn't sure on how red until the driver spoke.

"Miss Strong, are you ok?"

His words made me turn more red.

I nodded, and kept looking down at my phone.

_Wow. Um. The driver just asked me if I was ok that's how red my face was. Ps. You're on._

This reply took a little longer.

_A driver? Did they send a car? _

And just like that our sexy banter was gone.

I sighed, and replied.

_Yeah. He had a sign and everything._

Another second was Punk's reply.

_Really? Must be one hell of a meeting you're headed to._

I swallowed nervously.

I never got nervous, but right now I was a mess.

The only time I heard of talent being summoned to headquarters was to get fired.

I hoped like hell that wasn't my fate today.

The WWE was all I had. All I'd ever wanted.

And without it, I would have never met Punk.

I needed this job.

No one knew what would happen if I lost it.

And for the next few minutes, I was lost in all the shenanigans I'd caused, and the lack of respect for management I'd shown in the years I'd been here.

Were they finally sick of it?

Was my suspension the final straw?

The anticipation was killing me.

The driver's voice knocked me back the the real world.

"Miss Strong, we're here."

I blinked and looked out the tinted window.

I stared up at the mirror-windowed building.

Yeah we were here.

I gulped as the driver came around and opened my door.

I stepped out and look a deep breath.

What ever happened, happened.

Plus, there was always groveling right?

A few minutes later, I was in the reception area for Vince's office.

I'd made it right on time.

The second the receptionist saw me, she picked up the phone.

I didn't even get to sit down before she was talking to me.

"Miss Strong, please come with me." she stated, leading me down a hall to an office.

"Please, take a seat. Mr. McMahon will be right with you." She paused, looking at me.

I looked back, and felt awfully under dressed.

"May I take your jacket?"

"No thank you."

And my the look on her face, she was glad she didn't have to put her manicured hands on my worn leather jacket.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked.

Would she just go away please?

I looked back at her, trying to give her a sincere look.

"I'm good. Thanks."

I guess I didn't look as sincere as I wanted to, because her answering look was offended.

Either that or she wanted to get me a drink.

Either way she was out of my hair after that.

Hunter was there first, bitchy receptionist no where in site.

Thank god.

I wasn't sure I could take any more of her.

"Eli. Great. You're on time! Vince should be here in a second."

And he wasn't lying.

It was literally a second after he finished speaking, and none other then Mr. Vincent K. McMahon came through the office door, it closing on it's own.

"Eli, great to see you."

I took his extended hand, shaking it.

For some reason, his tone didn't give me the vibe I was about to get fired.

That took some of the weight off my shoulders.

"Vince."

He was surprised at mys use of his first name for a moment, but just smiled and went back behind his desk.

Hunter took the seat next to me, and I planted back in my previous seat.

"So, what am I here for?" Vince chuckled.

"Just like you Eli. Cut right to the chase."

His low rumble vibrated through the air.

"Right. Well, it's rather complicated. But what we're about to ask you can't leave this room."

There was a slight pause until Hunter chimed in.

"Not Kelly, not even Punk."

I furrowed my brows at the two of them.

What the hell was going on?

"It's a sort of secret mission, if you will."

Vince smirked slightly.

I had the feeling he was trying to be funny.

But it just made me more confused.

"You're right, this shit is complicated..." I muttered, gaining the attention of both men.

"Can you just get to it? I had plans today that I'd like to get back to."

Like fucking my boyfriend.

Now it was the two of them cocked a brow at me, in unison.

It was kind of scary.

"You're right, we pulled you away from your day at the last second. The least we could do is put all our cards on the table." Vince started, taking a breath he continued.

"Eli, we want you to go undercover at TNA Impact so we have a reason to bring on another Woman's title."

I blinked a few times before my jaw hit the floor.

What the hell?

**To Be Continued...**


	59. Authors Note

**Authors Note:**

**Hey all! It's been a crazy couple of months, and finally, Redemption in Two Fold is done! But never fear, I've got another in the works. ****Resolute in the Dust****, is the third installment to the Eli Strong series, and it'll be here soon. Very soon! Bear with me on the long two week wait before our favorite girl returns! I hope you all are enjoying the story and it's many twists and turns. And I hope you all will enjoy those in the future. But until then, adios. Remember, two weeks, and REVIEW! **

**With love, **

**Skee. **


	60. New Story

**Hey all! Just an FYI, the new story, Resolute In The Dust, is officially up and running! So everyone, read up, and review! And have fun! **

**With love, **

**Skee. **


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